If Only

The worst part of growing up is the realization that all your more sugar induced childhood dreams are totally unattainable in this physical universe.
It started off with the basics. The Millennium Falcon, a staple of childhood fantasies. Who among us from the ages of 4 to 19, wouldn’t want basically a space-flying Winnebago that can make .5 past light speed. Then things got grandeur. Every new bit of Sci-Fi/Fantasy entertainment brought a new plethora of dreams and wants. You didn’t care that you weren’t being original with you imagination, you just wanted one of those.
Wolverine’s very handy (haha pun) claws. Pok’e’balls so you can trap innocent and freakishly destructive creatures into tiny, little, spherical cages. The Power Rangers megasaure to stomp about the sandbox with. Maybe not a time-machine though. Going back in time in the Delorian could be fun or even educational. But in general the prospect of time travel seems more hassle then it worth. The risk of becoming your own grandfather is just too great.
But then there’s lasers! From death rays to Death Stars to laser pointers there usefulness never ends. “So your going to fail me professor. Well would you like to argue with my orbiting Hyper Mega Death Cannon of Death! Bruhahaha!”
Oddly most of my dreams at the time would eventually descend into some manner of maniacal madness. Armies of minion cloans, minion robots, minion aliens, or just plain normal minions in stylish minion uniform onesies. If I was given the Ring of Power you better believe I would use that in my rise to dominance, not to mention all manner of invisible hijinks.
There are rational set backs of course. The prospects of world domination at the head of a giant robot army could be enticing. But even at 8 I could see the holes in such plans. What happens after your coup, you got to set up a stable bureaucracy, sign decrees then busy yourself with keeping insurrections down. Too much headache for someone whose chief interest at the time involves an anthill and a tube of milk based glue.
Maybe you wanted the ability to say something and something cool would happen. Like “Kamaya-Maya” or “Shazam” or “Care Bear Stare”. How often have you really hated someone and just wanted to shout “Avada Kedavra” and watch some problems disappear while far more spring up in one motion.
Some abilities would even come in handy in everyday situations. Like mind reading. Cheating in class would never be easier, just pick and choose the answer from your fellow test takers minds. Or hovering. Not that lame, hey I got wings type flying that never seemed all that plausible, I mean legitimate bobbing about like gravity is some prank and the rest of us haven’t caught the joke yet, hovering. Your trying to pick up some cute boy/girl/robot, but wait, some A+ class college athlete is moving in and there is no hope for you to compete with that. But wait, you can hover, and all the rules change.
In the end all of this daydreaming never really came to much. Most of them were infantile, immature and generally idiotic. But at least they helped kill time during Mrs. Pomegranate (that was seriously her name) dull classes. That and doodling. You got to love doodling.