DAY 2: DADDY, I WANT TO BE A MILLIONAIRE

Image from nickstantonmusic.com

Me around the age of 5, as I remember.

Me: Dad you know what I want to be when I grow up?

Dad: Tell me! (All his attention on me)

Me: I love the way they throw those big large cans and bags to the truck!

Image from www.elespectador.com

Dad starts looking at me with weird eyes...

Me: I'd love being a "GARBAGE THROWER"! (as I called them)

The reason is that one of my first tasks at home was to take out the garbage so I kind of created an interesting ideal of this job. I wasn't paid! but I really enjoyed it listening to the bag falling from the 14th floor of a building through the garbage shut.

Later on I developed a skill that became my first job.

My dad taught me to shine shoes! loved the smell, loved the activity and decided to start charging for it! It was $100 per pair (local currency) which represented at that time I guess around 5 cents (USD).

I took all my mothers and dads shoes and started shining them. Loved black and brown, hated blue as they had not that much shoes, so changing colors meant a delay in production times. I use those words now that i know how to, but at that time it was just a strange feeling that changing to blue was a complication.

They paid well, immediately. the sad part of this is that i remember getting my coins, but don't remember how I used them; candies? comic strips? not a clue.

Years later and after wanting to be a cowboy, never a cop or fireman, I said the magic word.

Me: dad, I want to be a millionaire!

For that sentence to appear in me, I had to understand what money meant and the joy of having it.

Maybe such sentence stayed in the deepest part of my brain and was like a little seed.

Something like Jack and the magic beans as it was small at that time and never new how a simple trigger in the future would create a determinism, an almost obsession.

>Thought: IF YOU WANT IT, REALLY WANT IT, IT WILL COME TO YOU.