Well for this election anyway.
And actually it’s just a return to telling cute stories about my kids.
So Isaac’s elementary school had a mock election last week. Isaac was totally excited to tell me he had voted that day and that he had voted for Barak Obama. I was very curious to hear why he had chosen Obama. Ry and I have never really had any kind of specific political conversation in front of him so he wouldn’t be going into it informed by our choices.
“Why did you vote for Barak Obama?”
“Because he never ever ever never never ever never uses guns.”
“Hunh. Where did you hear that?” I was wondering what sort of information the school would provide these little voters.
“Christy told me.” Christy is a classmate of his. Actually, his “reading buddy.”
“Well, Isaac, Daddy uses guns.”
“Yeah, but just for hunting. Barak Obama knows you don’t use guns for anything else.”
“Oh. OK.” And it dropped.
A couple evenings later, at lunch I think, I brought it up again, the whole gun thing.
“You know, Isaac, Barak Obama probably doesn’t use guns at all.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess not. He must use a bow and arrow to hunt.”
My boy. He just cannot fathom a man who doesn’t hunt. His brain is many steps away from drawing this conclusion. I drew it for him. “Isaac, I don’t think Mr. Barak Obama hunts at all. He lives in a big city . . .”
“Oh.” That’s about as far as it went, but I still don’t think he’s convinced. Too funny.
So, fast-forward to Monday evening for more political talk with Isaac. He’s totally excited about the election tomorrow. He makes me a sign to take with me when I vote: “Vote for Obama” “#1 is Obama.” Then we happen upon his Scholastic News magazine. Do you remember those?
This one had a picture of each of the presidential candidates on the cover and inside the bi-fold paper each half was devoted to one candidate, with a large picture of McCain and his wife and one daughter on one side and a picture of Obama and his wife and two daughters on the other. Underneath the picture there were three smaller pictures within boxes. These contained answers to questions about the candidate: What is your favorite food? What is your favorite children’s book? What is your favorite leisure activity?
Isaac is drawn up short when he sees Senator McCain’s favorite food. A picture of a Taco! Senator McCain’s favorite food is Mexican food! Isaac’s entire countenance changes, jaw drops, eyes widen. No other word to describe it: crisis. You see, Isaac’s favorite thing is food. And Isaac’s favorite food is Mexican. And Isaac’s favorite Mexican food–of his very limited experience–is tacos. Seriously, the boy is stopped dead in his tracks. In silence I watch his face tell the tale.
“McCain’s favorite food is Mexican food. Mexican food!! Maybe I’ve made a mistake. Maybe I should have voted for McCain. Oh no. . . . Ok, get yourself together boy. Now check out Obama’s favorite food. Quick! Check! . . . . Chili! Chili!”
This part is said aloud: “I love chili. I mean, I love chili.”
Looks back and forth, back and forth. Again, the crisis written all over his face:
“Mexican is my favorite food. But I love chili. But Mexican is my favorite. But I love chili. And I was already committed to Obama and he has the whole no-gun thing going for him. But Mexican is my favorite. But I do love chili. A lot.”
Crisis passes. Whew.
“What do you think, Isaac?”
“I still like Obama. I love chili.”
Ahhh. If only it were all that simple. I love this boy. I truly truly love this boy. I don’t think you could know him from just a story. You have to see his exuberance, his intensity, his inquisitiveness, his passion and zeal for life. Every part of life. There is no half-way with this boy. There are only extremes. Someday he will take over the world. We used to joke about it, see him at his toddler-preschooler best and know that he would take over the world, but wonder if he would use his powers for good or for evil. Now that he’s coming into his own as a boy, an elementary school student, it’s looking likely he will use his powers for good. And I can’t wait to see it. As I sang to him when he was a teeny tiny: he’s a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.