Back when I still gave my parents a wishlist, there was one Christmas I really wanted comic books. At the top of my list. Surely, I thought, a comic book wouldn’t be asking too much if I had only asked for three things. A few days before Christmas, I see a big poster tube with my name on it. Resigned to defeat, I even started clearing space on one of the walls in my room for some poster. Come time to open the presents, and I pop open the tube to reveal several comic books rolled up. What was I thinking to have ever doubted? ~AH
I wish I could fly. I could fly 3 miles to a friend’s house, or I could fly 3,000 miles to some exotic beach in Hawaii. I could go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted and still avoid rush hour (how cool would that be?). But wishing, it seems, isn’t going to help me suddenly sprout a pair of wings ready to go. See, wishing is a little like daydreaming. You can sit around and daydream all day about how awesome having a pair of wings would be. Or you could unplug yourself from the wall, and fix things. Anyway, I’m going to learn how to fly a plane. Peace. ~MY
