When I was five or six, I was absolutely convinced that I was a grizzly bear. Bears, I thought, had it made. They could growl, explore, break into food, sleep a lot and do whatever they wanted. If there had been surgery to transform me into a grizzly bear, I would've wanted it.
I got over it one day when Dad took me to a hunting museum and showed me a grizzly bear rug with the head still attached. This, he pointed out, was what happen to grizzly bears who annoy humans too much.
Outta the mouths of babes.