I wish....

I wish I was a fish. Then I could swim around all day, blow bubbles and play hide and seek in seaweed.

But I don't wish for hungry sharks or to live in a tiny clear fishbowl.

I wish I had a flamingo. He could prance around my yard, a pink beacon of joy.

But, I'd probably have to find him a girlfriend. Then he would have baby flamingos and those babies would have babies and I would become the flamingo queen.

I wish I had a pot bellied pig. He could lay on his belly and snort and wiggle his curly tail. I could feed him leftovers and tie a pink ribbon around his neck.

But, the Babies would be terrified.

I wish I could find some way to pet the donkeys behind our house. I'd like to bring them some treats and brush the dirt off them.

But, with my lock I'd get shot by some crazed farmer with a sawed off shotgun.

I wish I had a baby elephant. Not a big elephant, but a baby elephant. He could spray me with his trunk and wiggle his big, floppy ears.

But, as Libby says, with elephants comes elephant poop.

I wish I had a tail. I could twitch it and twirl it around to indicate my mood. If I was interested in what you were talking about, it could languidly drift from side to side like a cat. If I was happy, it could wag like a dog. And if I was mad, it could stand straight up in the air as I made a dramatic exit.

But, what would I do with my jeans?

I wish I could talk to birds. Better yet, I wish I could argue with birds. I could tell them not to eat french fries off the sidewalk.

But, instead of cute singing I might hear something I'd rather not in their cheeps and chirps.

I wish I had a stable full of horses. I could ride through the Hill Country in the early morning hours and race through open fields. Whenever I wanted, I could smell the rich scent of a horse. I could braid pink ribbons in their tails and watch them graze in the pasture.

But, horses also have poop. And expensive vet bills.

I wish I could sing. I wish when I opened my mouth in song it didn't sound like a dying cat. I wish dogs didn't howl and people didn't cringe. I wish I didn't offend myself.

But if I could sing, how could I torture anyone trapped in a car with me?

I wish I had a bubble with wings. I could crawl in the bubble, pedal so the wings would flap and fly above the city. Not only would I ever have to worry about not getting exercises, but I could soar above miles of crowded traffic. I could weave through clouds and dodge planes.

I see no problems with this one.

But most of all, I wish I was published. I wish my books were in dozens of hands. I wish publishing wasn't so political. I wish that someone would give me a chance and not pass me off as crazy. Or at least give me some constructive criticism.

But I still wish I was a fish.