I am probably nine or ten years old, which means that my sister Velma is probably seven or eight years old. My mother, father, sister and I are sitting at the dinner table eating supper and dialoguing about what we might want to be when we grow up.
Velma: I want to be a prostitute when I grow up!
Mom & Dad: (choke on food)
Me: (choke on food and giggle because I know what a prostitute is)
Mom & Dad: Honey, do you know what a prostitue is?
Velma: Yep, it's a lawyer! A female lawyer! I want to be a prostitute when I grow up!
Apparantly the little girl down the street was having some difficulty distinguishing between a prostitute and a prosecuter.
Either one would be fairly ambitious for a seven-year-old, if you ask me.