When I grow up I want to drive a train and hoot the hooter very loud when I come into the station and make people jump. That’ll be fun.
Or I suppose I could fly an aeroplane like the one that took us to Spain last year where we stayed in a humongous hotel, and the waiter tripped on something  and spilt food all down a posh man at the next table who was very cross and went very very red and I thought he was going to explode. Do you think aeroplanes have hooters?
Or I could be a farmer. But my farm won’t have pigs and cows because they stink of poo. My farm will have dragons and I’ll grow potato chips on trees and chocolate buttons and marshmallows in the fields. I planted some chocolate buttons in the garden last week but nothing’s happened yet. I think I’ll water them again.
When I grow up I’ll be allowed to stay up ‘til midnight. I’ll sit with other grown-ups and talk about grown-up things and I’ll even pretend to like drinking that stinky beer like Dad does.
It’s Monday tomorrow.  School. Boo! I suppose I’d better go to sleep. Last night when I went to sleep I dreamt about…abou…ab…a…..zzzzzzzzzzzzz 

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