"What will you be going as?"
"Um I'd like an artist, but I'm not sure yet" Jimmy replied his friend Tommy.
It was just a week to the schools annual end of the year party and two weeks to Christmas. This year's dress theme was to come in outfits of their dream occupation.
Although it was the most interesting thing every year and they'd all been looking forward to it, Jimmy couldn't explain to Tommy that this particular year's party didn't hold much interest for him.
There was no way to explain it in terms Tom would understand, besides Jim as he was also fondly called wasn't so sure he understood it clearly himself.
All he knew was that his parents were first generation immigrants, mum had tried to explain what those words actually meant and from her tone Jim knew the words carried weight.
All Jimmy kne was that his parents believed the only way to secure a bright future for him was if he either became a lawyer, doctor, or an engineer. Being an artist wasn't big on their list of serious careers.
At just eight years of age, it was already obvious to Jimmy that his artistic interests didn't hold much weight with his parents.
Still in the yard playing with his friend, unknown to Jimmy, his mum had just overheard his conversation with Tommy.
Mrs Smith was concerned about how sad her son had looked when he was asked about his dress for the party.
Although both her and Jim's dad had taken steps which they both believed were necessary to channel his energy towards what they believed were better interests.
It had been obvious for about a year now that the boy was only interested in drawing.
Their decision wasn't exactly obsession or any of those shallow base parent desires to control all aspects of their children lives. It was borne out of the need to protect him from experiencing the problems they encountered after moving into the country.
As immigrants it hadn't been easy settling down into a new country, particularly as they didn't possess any extra skills. They had to work extra hard just to finally have some semblance of normalcy in their lives.
Which was why jobs in medicine and engineering held a lot of weight with them, it looked like the fastest way to a stable future to them.
They'd taken very subtle steps as parents to encourage his growth in their favored areas of interest such as buying him science toys and books when he clearly needed drawing books, pencils and crayons.
As Mrs Smith watched the dejected look on her son, she wasn't so sure they'd made the right decisions.
Anyone who knew Mrs Smith well enough would know that she was orderly and in control of most aspects of her daily routine.
It would have been surprising to most of her friends to see a restless Mrs Smith, because restless was the only word that could describe how she felt.
Smith her husband still worked long hours even though he didn't need to anymore, so waiting for him felt like torture itself.
Over the last few hours she'd already contemplated sending him a text that they needed to talk.
But as often as that line of reasoning came up, she'd shut it down almost immediately.
She knew all too well the way men viewed those three words.
Oh the words were guaranteed to hurry him home, but she didn't want him worrying and loosing his focus all the way home.
Immediately Smith walked in, his wife welcomed him and immediately he heard the magic words, he knew there was a problem.
Mrs Smith simply rolled her eyes, men could be so predictable she thought as she watched her husband's smile turn to a worried look.
'I can see where you're coming from, but is this really the right decision?"
Mr Smith asked after his wife finished narrating what she had observed earlier
It was almost torture going through the motions of appearing like a normal kid. Jimmy wasn't happy, but there was no solution in sight.
He'd tried to get his mum to buy him a crayon box in the past and she always claimed she'd forgotten.
So trying to tell her he wanted to dress as an artist to the party instead of a doctor was simply asking for trouble. Everyone was excited about the party, everyone except little Jimmy.
It was soon the last day before the party and as Jimmy got off the school bus alongside an overly enthusiastic Tom, he decided he would simply pretend to be sick and skip the party.
Both boys separated and walked to their various houses. Jim walked in his house, greeted his mum and headed towards his room.
'Your outfit for tomorrow is on your bed, I want you to try it on" his mum called out
Jimmy mumbled what must've been an ok, as he thought of how best to go about his plan. Just as he opened the door to his room, he stopped in his tracks.
On his bed was an outfit that didn't have any resemblance to that of a doctor, engineer or even a lawyer. It was simply a normal shirt and trousers, but both had been spray painted to look like a piece of artwork.
The words I BREATHE ART were boldly written on the shirt. But what was even more important was what was neatly arranged beside the outfit. A drawing book, some set of pencils and finally a crayon box.
Jim turned around to find his mum standing behind him. He flung himself into her arms as he held her in a tight embrace. Mrs Smith realized in that gesture just how much it meant to her son.
'It looks to me like you approve of the outfit Jimmy"
'I love you mum" was his only reply.
Jimmy had always heard the words Christmas came early and as he thought about it, this situation was a perfect example of those words.
His eyes caught sight of the crayon box and drawing book on the bed and he immediately knew what his first drawing would be.
As Jimmy stepped off the school bus the next morning in his spray painted outfit, holding a framed drawing of a little Jimmy playing under a Christmas tree, the words Christmas came early could be seen boldly written above it.
