I Don't Know What That Means

Today I voted.

I don't mean no disrespect to those lovely volunteers. I do appreciate that there are people willing to do it. But there should be some level of....uh....ability to see and comprehend. And maybe an ability to talk without yelling. Maybe it's just me.

The lady looked at the page with my name on it for a good 90 seconds before she spotted it. And then she double checked that I was in fact Nobody P. Whirl. Like 5 times. Double checking five times = infinity. It was painful to watch. And anytime someone said something, no matter where they were or who they were talking to, she stopped everything, pencil suspended in air, to follow the entire conversation. J was waiting at home with the kids and there was a really long line of people trying to vote before rushing off to work.

Plus, I'm the dork who had an absentee ballot and didn't use it, but in fact lost it, and then showed up at the polls thinking the world would stop, just for me and my unorganized lifestyle.

Twas not so. Every old man with a cell phone was riled up and yelling at some poor unsuspecting soul at the downtown precinct. "SHE LOST HER ABSENTEE BALLOT. LOST IT. NO, NO I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL AFFIDAVIT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, SHE'S HERE NOW....WHAT? Sonofa...I think he hung up on me!"

Could be because you were yelling at him, sir.

J handed me my absentee ballot a couple of weeks ago and said, "Do this, I've got it all ready for you." And I glared at him and shoved it away and said, "You're not the boss of me." And he shrugged and walked away.

Sure enough, it got lost and thus the above scene at the polls ensued. I confessed to J last night that I hadn't completed it and couldn't find it. He said, "It's okay. Your vote won't matter anyway."

I took Bo with me because he is pretty fascinated with this whole election thing. He wanted to know the names of everyone I voted for on the ballot. So much for privacy.

I'm watching my friend's kids and they're pretty funny. I always love car conversations and there were some good ones this morning.

Bo is obsessed with Barack Obama right now. It's kind of funny to me. This is obviously, entirely of his own volition.

So in the car he announces that he wants Barack to win and he's pretty sure he will win. The other kids ask him why. Which is a smart question. And Bo answers that it's because he's taller and he's skinny and he has brown skin and he's taller.
7 year old boy answers, "Uh, being skinny really doesn't make you be a better president."

Amen to that. In fact, I think the opposite of that is true and I do believe I'd be the best president known to man.

Later, 7 year old boy said that he didn't believe leper fish existed.

His 9 year old sister said, "That is not a fact (7yearold)! You can't prove it, so it's not a fact!"

Here's a fact. When I was 9 years old I did not ever argue that intelligently. I believe there was a lot more "butthead" and a lot less "facts and proving".

His Father's Son

Here's what I don't get: Simple question about presidential candidate and he "doesn't know what I'm talking about". And yet, he can repeat information he heard once, about Yushchenk0.