Oh man. What if our baby grows up to be a coal miner?
Here’s a job that would really worry me. It’s scary, dirty, and dangerous. Plus the burning of coal is really bad for the environment! It’s hard to imagine a more nerve-wracking job that our baby could grow up to have.
Okay, maybe it isn’t that hard. I have a pretty good imagination. Our baby could be a test subject for poison research, or a body double for the Pope, or a soccer referee in South America, or a rodeo clown. Actually, a couple of those would be pretty awesome. I’d definitely rather have a rodeo clown than a coal miner.
If our baby was a coal miner, I’d buy her lots and lots of canaries to test for poisonous gases in the tunnels. She’d basically go to work every day surrounded by a solid bubble of canaries, so they could breathe all the black lung around her, like a filter system.
Aw, poor little canaries. They’d be dropping like flies, I bet. Maybe we shouldn’t let our baby become a coal miner. I’m not sure I could have so many canary murders on my conscience.