I saw this question pop up on twitter and thought it would make for an excellent Confessions post. Linking up with Kathy, like always.
I've never been one to dream too big - I've always thought myself to be pretty realistic. I was a good student, but didn't do anything monumental to garner me a job with a ton of prestige. I'm not particularly talented in any one arena so I never dreamt of being a writer or an athlete or a singer. I've always just wanted to be happy and comfortable. But, short of winning the lottery or having a long-lost relative leave me an inheritance, I'm going to have to work to get there.
I think if I wasn't afraid, and since I have yet to find a talent and passion of my own, I would tell Andrew to open a barbecue trailer. He's working to perfect his ribs and brisket as it is, just for fun, and I would love for him to add turkey to the mix. One of the few things I can cook is macaroni and cheese. I would want to play around until I found the perfect mixture of cheese and pasta to make something completely craveable. And since this is my dream and I'm not afraid, I would want this little trailer to make its own bread. And dessert. There would have to be a perfect dessert at the end of the meal that everyone who came would order, hungry or not, because it would be that good. Mini pies? Brownies? Banana pudding cups? Maybe all of them, because I wouldn't have to be afraid that they wouldn't be good enough.
If I wasn't afraid, I would insist that this trailer was inside the loop, where more people who are adventurous with their bellies and money are. I would want a custom Airstream so we had some hipster cred, and red picnic tables outside the trailer, with umbrellas to protect our customers from the Texas sun. I would take the orders with a smile and thank everyone who came by and Andrew would cook, of course. He would balance the books and I would file the taxes. I would do all the supply ordering because it would probably be the only shopping I would ever have time for because our days would be start fire, cook, open, serve, close, repeat. I would commission a cute logo and we would sell t-shirts and koozies and blare our favorite music to those within earshot - none of that old-fashioned, twangy country so many other barbecue joints favor. It would be us, working hard, always smelling of oak and meat, and me never wanting to eat beef again. That's what I would do, if I wasn't afraid.