Five-year-old Johnny enters the room pretending to snore (loudly) and then staggers over to where his mom and I are talking only to collapse at our feet. He lies there unmoving for an impressively long time.

I’m actually there to interview Johnny because he wants to be famous and his dramatic entrance proves that he’s off to a good start perhaps as an actor.

I ask Johnny: What’s a dream?

Johnny: A dream is something that our head makes.

Me: Why is the moon round?

Johnny: Because God likes making things round, like planets.

Me: Is the earth round?

Johnny: It is round. No one thinks it’s flat! A long time ago, like Columbus people thought it was flat, but I know the earth is round.

Such sincere conviction proves that Johnny may someday find celebrity as a man of confidence, but certainly not a confidence man.

Me: What is the birthday of the world?

Johnny: Uh, Christmas. That’s when I got the angler fish that I can use as a flashlight. I mean that was for my birthday.

The way in which he smoothly changes subject convinces me that Johnny will find fame as a politician. Like any good newspaper woman, I try to get him back on track.

Me: Do you know why grass is green?

Johnny: Because plants are green and that’s how God made it.

Passing the buck again, makes me think that politician is surely his path to glory although minister is another consideration. I test the waters.

Me: What else did God decide for us?

Johnny: Sunglasses not to be the same as eyeglasses.

Johnny then throws me for a loop by laughing, “That’s a joke!” he says. Now I think comedian is his road to acclaim.

Johnny tells me that he’ll have to wear sunglasses once he’s famous. I ask how he feels about signing autographs and he replies, “What’s an autograph?”

Johnny shows me his box of drawings. He’s an exceptional artist. Undeniably that will be his claim to fame. But when he presents a rocket ship he’s made from yogurt containers and cardboard rolls, and then actually explains how it works, I ponder scientist as his true destiny.

Johnny’s extraordinarily articulate. He uses words like “article” and “rude”, but not in the same sentence. He informs me that after he ate crackers, cream cheese and olives, he threw up. He tells me had they been green olives and not black, the whole incident may never have happened. The detail with which he describes the event makes me think he’ll one day be a notable public speaker, but probably not a chef.

Johnny turns the interview around, “This is a question for me if you made this question for me,” he says. Now I’m thinking investigative reporter is his distant star. “When I was little I used to make tires brown like dirt, but now I make them black. Why did I do that?

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I didn’t know better.” Now I feel that Johnny will be honored as a philosopher.

Before I leave, Johnny offers to draw a picture of any one of my favorite things. Seeing that he enjoys fashioning dinosaurs, I ask him to crayon a Spinosaurus. He works diligently for a while and then hands me a drawing of…a monster truck.

Now I’m thinking he’ll be recognized for doing exactly what he wants at all times. The artwork I’m now holding, however, turns out to be a message of sorts. It illustrates exactly how Johnny sees his path to stardom; he’ll eventually own a store that will earn him enough money to buy a monster truck.

Fame, according to Johnny (at least for now), is that simple despite all his other possibilities.