Geoffrey Steeves ticked off his first requirement for becoming an astronaut at age 3, on his way home from playing on a swing set.
"I'm very interested in gravity," he told his bemused mother.
Curiosity? Check.
Over the years, the Halifax native ticked off more feats that might endear him to the Canadian Space Agency - earning a PhD in astrophysics and a commercial pilot's licence. He also became a physically fit scuba diver who happens to be under 6 feet 3 inches tall. (Check, check, check.)
"I was hoping I would have a good application when the time came," said the affable 36-year-old physics professor at the University of Victoria.
A degree in patience might have helped, however, because there hasn't been a job posting for Canadian astronauts since 1992, when Dr. Steeves was a mere undergrad - until now.
For only the third time in history, Canada needs new astronauts. More than 5,300 people applied for the two vacancies, and earlier this week the Canadian Space Agency announced that Dr. Steeves and 15 other candidates had made the shortlist.
Among them are aerospace engineers, two doctors, a former Olympian and a cluster of fighter pilots. They range in age from 26 to 40, hail from across the country and include one woman: Allyson Hindle, a zoologist from Vancouver.
All but a few dreamed of going to space as children - and have been plotting how to get there ever since.
"Cardboard boxes were spaceships to me," said Joshua Kutryk, a fighter pilot with an engineering degree, born in Fort Saskatchewan, Alta.
"I also wanted to be a Zamboni driver," said Bruce Woodley, an electrical engineer from Richmond, B.C.
But the job description has changed drastically since they began dreaming of space. So has the definition of who has the "right stuff" to get there.
Space exploration is "at a crossroads," says Steve MacLean, the former astronaut who now heads the Canadian Space Agency.
As the space shuttle approaches retirement and the International Space Station nears completion, NASA is building the next fleet of vehicles to bring astronauts back to the moon and possibly to Mars and beyond.
That means Canada's newest astronauts must not only be superwhizzes with abs of steel. The selection committee also wants to know: Are they likeable?
"You do ask yourself: Would I like to be on the space station for six months with this guy or this girl?" Dr. MacLean says.
When the Ottawa native became an astronaut in 1984, missions lasted a matter of weeks. When Canadian astronaut Robert Thirsk heads to the International Space Station in May, he'll be gone for six months. And if humans ever make it to Mars, Dr. MacLean says, just getting there could take six months to a year.
Canadian astronauts now interact with peers from across the world at the International Space Station, so a natural affinity for languages is a must.
Narrowing down the field has been difficult, and it's easy to make comparisons to Survivor. "We joke that you're kicked off the island," says Ryan Hunter, a 32-year-old researcher working at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Boston. (Dr. MacLean had an offer to do a reality show about the selection process, but turned it down).
The thousands of applications were narrowed down to 72 based on their résumés. Only Canadian doctors, scientists or engineers were eligible - but those who passed muster brought much more to the table. Many have been plotting their route to the spaceship for years - actively pursuing specific interests in flight or fitness that would help bulk up their résumés.
Dr. Woodley was tempted to apply during the previous recruitment campaign in 1992, but he was only halfway through his engineering physics degree at Simon Fraser University. "I didn't want to waste my time or theirs," he said.
But for the past 16 years, with his goal in mind, he's been stacking up achievements that increased his chances: an internship at NASA, scuba-diving and commercial pilot's licences, and a research interest in robotics.
After a round of interviews whittled the field to 39, candidates underwent physicals and robotics testing - similar to video games - that evaluated their accuracy, spatial orientation and reaction time. "It was like old-school Atari days," said Dr. Hunter, who grew up in Mississauga.
From there, 31 candidates were tested for guts and ability to solve problems under pressure. They fought fire, were dropped into pools while strapped into helicopter cockpits and asked to fight their way out. In one test, they had to stop a leak as their small room flooded with water.
This week, in their final round of competition, they underwent more physical and psychological testing in Toronto.
The two successful candidates will be revealed in May, and by August they'll be posted at NASA headquarters in Texas.
After a lifetime of dreaming about this, most candidates say they're trying not to think that far ahead. They all said they'd be just fine if they weren't the chosen ones.
"We've all got jobs we love," said Christopher Denny, an emergency doctor from Toronto and father of two.
"It's a very fulfilling position," Dr. Steeves said of his job at the University of Victoria, where he teaches when he's not conducting research on things such as ion spins in semiconductor nanostructures.
Dr. Woodley was a little more to the point.
"I would be lying if I said I didn't hope it was me," he said. "I can't think of anything more fun."