election day

I Voted! And My Toddler Helped! Kind of!

We walked as a family to our polling place today. My East Coast friends (who live three hours in the future) had a lot of posts about how they cried at the polls. Making history! Feelings!

I didn’t cry, but Charlie almost did. As we left, it became apparent that he wasn’t going to get to meet Hillary Clinton OR Donald Trump today. This voting experience was not what he signed up for.

“Where’s Her-Larry Cinton and Donald Trump?”

“They’re voting in New York. Everyone votes close to their house.”

“Okay, let’s go to New York now.”

“No, buddy, we’re going to go home after this.”

“BUT I WANT TO SEE DONALD TRUMP!”

Last night I asked Andy if he knew what the J stood for in “Donald J. Trump.” He said, “I don’t know. John? Jerk?”

Charlie was within earshot and thought this was the greatest comic masterpiece since¬†Tartuffe.¬†So obviously, he marched out of the polling station chanting, “Donald Jerk Trump! Donald Jerk Trump!”

We told him that we weren’t allowed to say what we think of the the candidates inside the building. So he went back to his previous talking point: “But where IS Donald Trump? Let’s go see him.”

“We’re not going to see him today, honey.”

“Okay, let’s go see Her-larry Clinton.”

So far, it’s been an awesome day and I’m glad I got to share it with my guys. But now that he mentions it, it is pretty disappointing that we don’t get to meet Hillary Clinton today.

Maybe tomorrow.img_3445img_2411

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Hot for Democracy

It’s Charlie’s first election! Or second, if we count the fact that I got knocked up the weekend before the 2012 election. I then proceeded to have more coffee and cigarettes on Election Day than I’d had in the previous six months (which is to say, one cigarette and one metric buttload of coffee) as Andy & I were manning headquarters for my cousin’s congressional campaign. Then about 10 days later, we had a nice campaign wrap dinner, wherein I had more sushi and whiskey than I’d had in the previous year. Then the next day, I felt a little weird (read: sore in the boobs), and two pregnancy tests later I was on the metro to Andy’s workplace to share the good news (while freaking out about how much raw fish I’d had 12 hours earlier).
Charlie was due on Andy’s 36th birthday, which, according to math, means that Andy’s existence is attributable to Carter-Mondale Election Fever. We’re not a family with a ton of traditions, but I hope I get a grandchild in the summer of 2049. Ugh, I’ll be so old. But my bionic spine, flying car, and adorable grandchild will keep me feeling young.

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