The Question

There comes a time in every kid's life when things change. They notice subtle differences. As parents, we've watched our children grow from little wrinkly things that constantly cry to little things that make us constantly cry. It's a joyous time, seeing them become miniature versions of us ( without the cynicism and scars.). But, even though we know it's coming, we dread the time when they get old enough and ask The Question. You know...The Question that leads to The Talk.

It happened with my son one evening. I'd just gotten home from work and was looking forward to relaxing. My son sat next to me. I waited for the “Let's play catch” or “Let's play a game on the Wii.” But he sat there quietly.

I tensed up waiting for the tickle attack, but even that didn't happen.

“Daddy,” I could tell this was going to be a difficult discussion from the tone of his voice.

“Yes, bud?” I was prepared for pretty much anything. He'd been on a what-if kick lately. So, I was ready with most of the professional quarterbacks and whether or not they could throw the ball to the moon.

“Why is President Obama so bad?”

This, I was not prepared for. The last presidential election was the first he remembered. (He was about 2 years-old for the previous one. Even though we lived close to the center of the political world at the time, I'm pretty sure the whole process didn't register with him. I know what you're thinking, at two he drooled and had the same bodily control as most politicians, so there's no reason for him not to remember that election.) Anyway, after the last presidential election, he was very proud that he knew who the new President was. So, I was a little concerned and quite unprepared for his question. I fell back on the best Parental Response. “Why do you ask that?” (That'll buy you a good five minutes while they try to figure out how to re-word questions like, “Why is the sky blue?” and “If I hit my sister with a bat because she's annoying, but she's not bleeding too much, how much trouble would I be in? Not that I did.”)

“Because, he is destroying the country.”

Usually, I vote the opposite of my mother-in-law (just because it's fun to piss her off.) But I haven't actively set out to irritate my children yet. So, I was pretty sure he didn't get that impression from me. “Who told you that?”

“A commercial on TV.”

“That's not really true.”

“You mean Mitt Romney's a liar?”

“Not really.”

“But he said he won't raise taxes and Barack Obama will. And we'll be out of money.”

“He's just saying that because he wants people to vote for him.”

“You mean he's going to raise taxes?”

For a minute, I thought about explaining global economics to my son. Then I remembered that he's doing math problems in school that make no sense to me. (For that matter, the last time I helped my daughter, who is in first grade, with her math, we BOTH got letters from the teacher. Luckily my wife gave me an excuse and I didn't have to go to detention. But I did have to promise to never help my daughter with math again.) There's also the fact to count above ten, I have to take off my shoes and socks and I was too comfortable to move right then.

“Well, see, it's like this. They both want people to vote for them. They say what they think people want to hear.”

“Barack Obama does that too?”

“Yes. It's all part of running for election.”

“We have to choose between two liars?”

“Well... They aren't really lies. They are campaigning.”

He gave a look that only a kid presented with adult logic can get. “So, we have to choose between two liars. That's stupid.”

“Let's play a game on the Wii,” I suggested.

“OK, but it's still stupid.”

“I know, Go talk to your Grandma. She was alive when they signed the Declaration of Independence. She can explain it.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” If the President can campaign, so can I.