We all laughed when Emily took the “What career am I best suited for?” test at school and her results told her she’d make a fine upholsterer or taxidermist.

“Pollster?” I said, almost mildly hopeful.

“No Mama, you know, someone who covers couches.”

“Dream big, my love. Dream big!”

Not that there’s anything wrong with an upholsterer. 

Flummoxed by these recommendations, we thought it appropriate that she retake the test. Because here’s the thing. While yes, we really exhausted the Norman Bates jokes, and that gave us what seemed like never-ending material, the truth remains: Emily is almost 16, and she needs to already be thinking about the high school courses she’s going to take to get her into the university courses she’s going to take to get her into the graduate courses she’s going to take.

When I was in high school there was exactly zero percent guidance given to me by the guidance department. I knew that words were my thing, and I opted for AP Psychology instead of AP Biology because fetal pig dissection made me a little gaggy to think about and the AP psych teacher was maybe, sort of good looking, which was an important part of the decision-making process when you were a 17-year-old girl who had the aforementioned zero percent guidance.

I left for (what’s now aptly called a Gap Year but back then it didn’t even have a name at all) Israel after I graduated high school knowing that I sort of wanted to go into some sort of communications, thanks to the communications program I had gotten into at BU. There was talk of news anchor for a very long time. {Dream big, me. Dream big!}

Emily’s new career test came back a little bit more accurate (and also a little bit more expensive): Ophthalmologist. Orthopedic Surgeon. Neurosurgeon. Plastic Surgeon.

She’s getting dangerously close to being behind the wheel, yes, but, you guys, she’s still my little girl. She’s so fiercely independent these days and can walk in a pair of heels without looking like an imposter. BUT. Sometimes she still crawls into bed with me for girly movie watching, snuggles, and giggles.

It’s actually slightly terrifying to me that she’s already throwing out terms like TRI-SCI, choosing courses to take that are going to set her on a path to her not-so-distant future. Okay maybe it’s a little more than slightly terrifying.

So I’m a little bit in denial.

But we’ve still taken to calling her McDreamy.