If I could travel back in time, I would. For one reason. To ask five year-old Navid the question that all adults ask children: 

-What do you want to be when you grow up? 

The reason isn't that I want to know the answer. I know the answer. I want to hear his voice, see his smile and eyes when the five-year Navid pronounces the words: 

"I want to become an inventor.“

It didn't matter what I would invent, in what area, or who I would work with or for. It was so obvious that I would do something that had to do with creating. Inventor. Thinking up things. Like Gyro Gearloose in my Donald Duck magazines. Like the characters in Jules Verne's books. Confused types with rounded spectacles which they lost 100 times a day, white lab coats and ruffled hair. Inventor. 

If I could travel back in time, I would. And I'd sneak into my brain the day I had the idea: dumbtens. I don't know if I had been drinking alcohol or using some other strange substance. I don't know if I was tired or if I was inspired. All I know is that I suddenly thought of the word dumbtens. It is a combination of mittens and dumbbells. It is a heavier material, some form of led or iron. You make a mitten like material out of it. Dumbbells and mittens together makes dumbtens. You walk around on a normal day, working out as you go along and no one notices a thing.