To start things off, it's important to realize exactly why a
two-year-old cares whether or not I vote. Simple, Ellie knows there is
something in it for her if I go and vote. I've made a habit of taking Ellie
with me whenever I vote. She was there at the Presidential election, car seat
and all. She was also there at the primaries a few months ago. That very
election is where Ellie's fascination with the American electoral process
began.
The beautiful part of our local polling place is that it is
held in a nearby church. Therefore, it goes without saying that there is a
large population of retired folks there to hand cookies and coffee to people as
they leave the polls. As a result, Ellie has associated the process of voting
with getting a free cookie. Please don't ask me how she remembers this months
later; I really don't know.
Anyway, when I asked Ellie about going to vote today, she
responded with the comment "Go vote and get a cookie." Therefore, as
any responsible parent would, I cued up the camera on my phone and prompted her
to restate it again.
With the promise of a cookie to be gained, we made our first
attempt at the polls between 10:30 and 11. We cruised into the church parking
lot from the south side only to see something I'd never actually seen at an
election before: parking attendants directing the sea of cars. When our parking
attendant motioned us far away from the front door, I responded by rolling down
my window and finding out how long the lines were. His response was simple, but
still super helpful. He told us the wait was around 30 minutes and followed
that up by saying we should check back around 2:00 if we didn't want to wait.
With that, I decided to head for home so Ellie could get her
lunch and a nap with the promise of voting later. To that, Ellie continued to
mutter her motto for the day in the back seat, "Go vote and get a
cookie."
Once Ellie awoke from her slumber, her first words to me
were, you guessed it, "Go vote and get a cookie." With that, we
headed back to the polls to find a much shorter line than before. We parked
relatively close to the front door and headed inside. Then, we found the line
to our precinct and settled in. I kept glancing down to Ellie at my side,
clutching a plastic horse close to her body, nervously looking around the
gymnasium at the sea of people around her. Don't worry, I did provide continual
reassurance that she and her horse would be ok.
 |
| Yes, Ellie and her horse would even be safe from the guy who wore a hoodie with Vlad Putin saying "Kill 'Em All". |
The time came and we received our ballot. Heading to a table
across the room, I sat down with Ellie near my side, and embarked upon the
wrist-breaking task of voting. After a while, I noticed Ellie was getting
braver and was more willing to step away from my side. In fact, she wasn't just
willing to step away from my side. She was willing to sidle up to other voters
at the table and gaze at their ballot. However, she refused to give me any
inside information to how they voted on the Missouri Bingo amendment. I still
have no idea what to do with that one.
 |
| Forgive me for that unsightly glare. #1541. |
Finally my ballot was done (I didn't even have to start
filling in bubbles with my left hand) and it was time to submit it. Once that
task was completed, Ellie's true task could begin. She led me out of the gymnasium
to the cookie table in the lobby. There, she stood, gazing at all of the
options in front of her until I finally took a napkin and picked a
Snickerdoodle cookie for her to enjoy. Then, it was time for her to reap the
benefits of democracy.
In all seriousness, I did feel it pertinent to try and teach
Ellie about democracy today. However, I think my lessons might have fallen on
deaf ears. Maybe comparing legislators to rule-making mommies and daddies
didn't really resonate with her. Or maybe, just maybe, she was too engrossed in
her Snickerdoodle cookie to care about anything else in life at that moment.
#DaddyWrite
 |
| Daddy, is this what democracy tastes like? |
No comments:
Post a Comment