Personally, I'll be happy if Jake survives into adulthood with me as his mother. Beyond that, anything else he manages to accomplish will just be a bonus. But here are some of the possible routes my son could take:
He could be a bodybuilder.
This would be handy for me, because there will come a day when I'll need someone strong to hoist me out of my hospital bed and give me a sponge bath, and change my support hose for me. Bodybuilder Jake would be ideal for this. Plus, big-muscled guys look great with a "MOM" tattoo on their arm, which Jake would definitely want because, you know, I'm so great. In fact, I'm thinking of getting him one of those for his 1st birthday.
Or, he could be a prom queen.
Or prom king, which I suppose would be my preference. However, since I missed out on having a daughter to dress up in cute little outfits, it would be kind of fun to go with him to pick out a prom dress. And we could sit side by side in the beauty salon under our hair dryers and talk about celebrity gossip, which would be a great bonding moment.
Or, he could be a religious leader.
Not the child molesting type of religious leader, nor the money-grubbing type who squeezes every last dime out of his followers and builds a lavish country estate complete with a waterslide and several statues in his image. But the kind of religious leader who occasionally heals the sick and causes the crippled to jump out of their wheelchairs and walk again. That way, I would be very powerful at the old folk's home. Those old biddies would be falling all over themselves trying to gain my favor so I could send my big shot religious leader son to cure their gout, incontinence, bed sores, and whatever else ails the elderly. Plus, he'd be there to read me my last rites when I kick it.
But then again, he might end up on the cover of a magazine.
That would be really cool because then I could push my walker up and down the halls of the old folk's home waving the magazine and shouting, "Ha! I bet none of you old bats have a kid who's on the cover of a magazine!" Of course the downside, at least in this particular scenario, is that the less senile among my elderly companions would probably point out that my kid looks a little fruity in that cheerleading uniform. But I'd just pull that common old person's trick and act like I couldn't hear them. Then I'd pee a little.