Voting with children is like running with scissors….

So, I’ve taken the Boy to every single election since he was born. Local dog catcher, Regime Leader, whatever…I’ve dragged him into the polls. This year was the first time he was really old enough for us to have the discussion about what I was doing and why it was important.

So ensued a long discussion about Democracy and The Republic, and citizens and the responsibility as a member of a Republic to cast votes on people and issues that you think drive the society in the direction it should go. There was even a chart. Yes, I made a chart. Shut up.

So, we’re in the polling place. Waiting in line to show my voter’s registration and get my ballot. The Boy, was sounding out words written on the windows. (Voting was at an elementary school.) One of the darling, friendly, ancient people they unfreeze to work elections peered over the table at The Boy and said, “Hello young man, are you here to vote?”.

To which the Boy responded; “Oh, no. My mom just needs to pick some new people to yell at on TV.”


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