What do you want your kids to be when they grow up? Oh look, I know it may be taboo or even politically incorrect but come on, 'fess up. Who hasn't allowed themselves to dream of a future for their kids? And I suppose while we're being truthful we might as well admit that our ambitions for our offspring often say more about ourselves than about our kids.

When I first had my kids I honestly didn't think about what I would like them to be. I was sincerely caught up in pursuing my own ambition as the textbook-perfect mum who (naturally) would never even consider harbouring a desire for her children to be anything more than 'happy'. My mother-in-law, however, had long vanquished such model behaviour and did not hold back in voicing her hopes for Indy to become a ballerina. She even promised to pay for the lessons if that's what it took. Luke's mother is a dyed-in-the-wool girly girl and fan of all things ultra-feminine, and so karmic retribution of the reproductive kind saw her give birth to five sons and just one daughter. When grandchildren came along boys once more outnumbered girls, with Indy being only the second granddaughter - and the perfect subject for the projection of latent ambitions. But, as it turns out, Indy does not have the gene for performance and the memory of her first dance lessons still brings a lump to my throat as I recall looking anxiously at her forlorn little face through the glass door of the dance studio. Ambition Number One thwarted.

Indy was such a shy kid that I wouldn't have - indeed couldn't have - pushed her into anything. Merely getting her to survive in social situations was an achievement in itself. But in recent years I have let my perfect mother halo slip just a little and started imagining exciting futures for her. Occasionally I have asked her outright what she wants to be when she grows up, to which the answer is usually, "I don't know", so I figured a little encouragement was in order. As with all good career advisors I identified Indy's strengths. She has inherited her dad's love of animals and his ability to talk to them a la Dr Doolittle or the modern-day Horse/Dog Whisperer. Suffice to say she received a toy vet's kit for her fourth Christmas. Since then, I like to subtly drop 'veterinarian' into the conversation from time to time:

Indy: "Look mummy, there's a kitten."
Me: "Oh sweetheart, you should be a vet when you grow up."

By the time Levi came along I stopped pretending I had no ambitions for my kids. He was a persistent little toddler with a great line in twisted logic - I went straight to the top (or bottom, depending on your experience) of the career ladder. "He'd better be a lawyer when he grows up," I told all and sundry as I came off second best in our usual battle of wills.

But as he settled into his personality a little more, something else emerged. Levi is a prolific TV watcher. He loves animation and live-action films and has impeccable taste in both fields. When he told me that a film with a wholly improbable premise was amazing, I should have placed a bet on Wall-E winning an Oscar then and there. So in recent times I have floated the idea of Levi being a film director or even an animator. I dabbled in video production at uni and had a bit of a knack for it - although not quite the burning desire to enter such a competitive industry. Perhaps Levi could take up the mantle? The year before last he got an animation toy for Christmas. This toy allowed kids to use their action figures to make short films - the problem was, it was a bit too tacky to make anything to rival the stuff he's used to. Still, I floated 'his' ambition at every opportunity. "Levi, would you like to watch the Special Features on this Spider-Man DVD? See that guy there - he's the director. You could do that when you grow up." I'm nothing if not shameless.

But this week I hit the jackpot with Levi. I have, without a doubt, found his true calling. When I say Levi is a prolific TV watcher I mean it. He watches whatever he can get his eyes on. I initially tried to be strict and limit his viewing to non-commercial stations but I have acquiesced a little in later years. Subsequently, we will often be out shopping and he will say something like, "Mum did you know that toilet thing will give your toilet a better clean?", or "Mummy, do you know if you buy me that computer game it will make me smarter and help with my homework?" But I had my Eureka moment this week when Levi came to me with a packet of bubble gum and said, "Mum would you like a piece of gum? Now with a bonus free tattoo." Aha! He's going to be in advertising!

Advertising is the one field I regret not pursuing. Back in my uni days (which, you should know, is many years before the uber-coolness of ABC TV's The Gruen Transfer) I told my video class that I considered TV advertisements to be works of art. I was all but laughed out of the tutorial by a room full of tie-dyed, lentil-munching, European-film buffs. But I shall have my revenge. Or rather, Levi will on my behalf. That will be him thanking me as he accepts an award at the Cannes Lions International Advertising Festival. Dream big, my little ones.

Do you ever wonder what your kids might be when they grow up? Do you occasionally (despite your best intentions) project your own ambitions onto your kids?