It hasn't. As far back as I remember my dream was to be a rodeo clown. I was as tomboy as they come. Butch haircut and all. Rolling around in the dirt throwing punches at boys while my dad rode bareback horses. I impatiently waited until it was my turn to enter the arena inside the magic "shrinking machine" identically dressed to the actual rodeo clown, face paint and all.
Actually, my mom used to talk about running a western store called "Cowgirl Annies." It's probably a good thing I learned to like my mom's dream a little better; this purse is a little easier for me to dodge than a bull would be! Sorry I didn't use your name, momma!