When I Grow Up (If There’s Any Room Left)

You know, when adults ask me what I want to be when I grow up, I panic. Not because I don’t know what I want… but because I know robots probably want it too.

Like—okay—suppose I say I want to be a doctor. There’s an AI that can already diagnose diseases faster than humans. If I say I want to be a lawyer? Nope. AI can write contracts while I’m still figuring out how to spell “subpoena.” And if I say I want to be a writer? Forget it! AI is already out there writing novels. Some of them are probably better than my book reports.

So what does that leave me? Expert snack-eater? Professional napper? Babysitter? Oh wait—robots can probably do that better too. And they won’t even charge extra for pizza.

The thing is, adults tell me, “Don’t worry, there will always be jobs for people.” But I think that’s just what they say so I’ll keep doing my homework. Like: “Sure, Benny, study fractions. Someday you’ll be a highly employable… um… people-talker. Or a… feelings-understander. Or something.”

But here’s the funny part: even if AI takes all the jobs, it’s still going to need people to do one thing—complain about it. Robots can work 24/7, but they don’t know how to whine. That’s our superpower.

So maybe, when I grow up, my job will be: Official Human Complainer. And honestly? I think I’d be amazing at it.

Still… I really hope there’s a job where I can do more than just complain. I hope there’s still room for people like me—messy, slow, snack-loving people. Because if the future is only for perfect robots… then what’s the point of growing up at all?

Benny vs. Climate Change

So apparently, climate change is this giant problem. Like, bigger than “I forgot to do my homework” big. More like… “the whole planet might overheat and we all melt” big.

And yeah, I recycle. I even bring my own bags to the grocery store with Mom, even though they smell kinda funny. But then I read that big factories are still pumping smoke into the sky like they’re auditioning for the world’s grumpiest dragon. And I’m thinking: really? Me rinsing out a yogurt cup is gonna fix that?

I mean, come on. I’m ten. I can barely remember to put socks in the laundry. You want me to save the planet too? No pressure.

But then again… it’s not like I can just ignore it. Because it’s my planet. And I like this place. I like ice cream, and snow days, and… polar bears. Especially polar bears. And if we don’t do anything, all of that could disappear.

So yeah, maybe I can’t stop climate change all by myself. But I can start. Ride my bike. Plant trees. Bug grown-ups to do better. If enough kids bug enough adults, maybe they’ll finally get it.

Because honestly? Grown-ups can be kinda slow sometimes.

So that’s my plan: save the world one annoying reminder at a time. And if that doesn’t work—well—at least I tried. Plus, complaining is free, and I’m really, really good at it.

Besides… if we’re gonna have a future, I’d like to actually be in it.