The four of us are eating dinner when my 8-year old asks, “If you had one wish, what would it be?”
I go first and say I’d wish for ten more wishes. I expect him to say that isn’t allowed, or that was going to be what he said, but he just smiles and turns his attention to his little brother who goes next.
“I want to move things with my mind like Matilda!” he squeals.
Then it’s my 8-year old’s turn.
“I wish for infinite wishes!” he announces, and now I understand why he had no problem with my answer.
“Okay, that’s no fun, we can’t wish for more wishes,” I say.
So I go again. This time I wish for a trillion dollars before immediately realizing my mistake and start talking about hyperinflation and monetary theory until I realize no one cares. Then my little one says, “How about you mommy?”
“I wish I could be invisible,” she says.
“That’s quite specific,” I say. But I don’t really think anything of it and it’s the oldest one’s turn again.
“I want to be able to see the future,” he says, which is funny because I’ve been trying to write a novel about a guy who can see the future for years. Then he adds, “I want to see the future so I can save people’s lives!”
Later that night, my wife and I are in bed and she’s telling me about this Bill Gates interview she recently saw. Apparently the interviewer asks Gates if he thinks Elon Musk is as much of a genius as Steve Jobs was, and based on his answer, my wife thinks Gates is a bit of a hater.
“There’s a lot of conspiracy theories about Bill Gates these days,” I mention.
“I’ve heard. Who knows, maybe he is behind Covid, why else would he have patents on all these vaccines. Only if I could just be a fly on the wall and hear all these secret conversations,” she says.
That’s when it clicks. The invisibility thing.
“Wait, is that why you want to have the power of invisibility?” I say, laughing.
“Yeah! Then I can just be in these rooms and hear all these conversations and find out the truth!”
“And what are you gonna do about it after you find out the truth?”
“I’ll write articles about it and tell the world!”
I start laughing again because writing is my thing, not hers.
“You barely write emails by yourself, and now you’re going to be writing entire articles?!?!”
“Well, maybe I just never had anything to write about before!” she counters, and I can’t help but picture her sneaking into these closed door meetings where she blends into the scenery trying to get to the bottom of everything that’s wrong with the world.