I want to be a tribal warrior when I grow up. I want to live in the jungles of the Amazon and eat green bananas and kill ocelots for food. And I want to have a pet bird. One of those birds that do the weird mating dance. Like on Planet Earth.

I want to go to Neptune. Because it is grossly underappreciated as a planet. I can’t imagine it being a very pleasant visit, but I’d like to give Neptune some well-deserved publicity.

I want to live in a loft and paint all day. I want to play loud music. And I want to go shopping at the foreign grocery and eat lots of hummus. I want to go on the roof of my loft and breathe in the glorious pollution of the city.

I want a racecar bed. Preferably red. I want people to be jealous when they see my racecar bed. I want to go to Chuck E. Cheese and win one of those huge stuffed animals. I want to go play laser tag and win. And I want to eat chicken nuggets and drink Sprite.

I want a big, wraparound porch. With hammocks and porch swings and rocking chairs and pitchers of lemonade and strawberries. I want to lie in aforementioned hammock on a sunny day with a ridiculous number of pillows.

I want some Oreos.