Politics Through the Eyes of a Five Year Old

Four years ago, while watching the GOP convention in New York City, The Littlest Critic had this unprompted response:




Four years later, during the Democratic Primary, when we were a Hillary household, all of us rooting for the first girl president, TLC rendered this campaign poster:



And tonight, while watching the half hour Barack Obama campaign commercial (well done by the way; very slick production values, excellent cinematography and editing; successful use of surrogates and real-life stories; I was pleasantly surprised as I have memories of Ross Perot and his graphs and such from way back when), TLC rendered this portrait (among several others) demonstrating which candidate currently has her support:






I love the jacket, shirt, and tie action going on here.

Yes, TLC was a huge, I mean HUGE, Hillary fan. When The Critical Wife took her to a rally in Lyndhurst, TLC beamed, "She's beautiful!" upon catching sight of the former First Lady. She made her own campaign sign, which we displayed in our front window, and she regularly chanted, "Hill-a-ry! Hill-a-ry! Hill-a-ry!"

Suffice to say, there were quite a few tears shed when it became obvious that Ms. Clinton wouldn't again be occupying the White House. I left the breaking of the bad news to my wife.

As consolation, we regularly read (and still do) Grace for President. Buy it for the girls in your life. And for lighter fare, Duck for President.

(Now, I'll admit right here that when I hear Obama speak, I'm giddy and swayed by his soaring poetic abilities, but I can't help still crying a little inside when he talks about "affordable healthcare" instead of going the full progressive route and promising universal healthcare instead. That still remains one of my political Holy Grails.)

Anyway, going for walks in our neighborhood is fun stuff, as we Obama supporters outnumber the McCain supporters, as measured by sign displays, somewhere on the area of about eight to one. The two houses right across the street from our polling location both have Obama signs in their front yard.

We're gonna win this one, folks. All the haters, all the crap out there. We're gonna rise above all that and we just might see real change.

We have hope here. The hope of a little girl with her crayons.

Vocab Lately

The other day, while The Littlest Critic, The Critical Wife, and I were going some place in the car, I was gently teasing TLC, as is my wont. Finally, after having heard enough of it, she said to me, "Stop taunting me."

She's five.

Later that same day, The Wife and I in the middle of a conversation, were interrupted by TLC pointing out that "that's descending," referring to something in our conversation that was, in fact, going down in a metaphoric sense.

For the record, again, she is five.

Although to be fair, she's closer now to six than five.

We have always tried to model conversation for her, using occasional big words when talking about things with her instead of going for babyish alternatives.

But every so often she throws out something like "taunting," and I'm just blown away.