We've been watching the Democratic National Convention in the evenings this week, standing in the kitchen eating as we listen to the speeches because it was stir fry night and the video card in our Media Center computer, also known as the Living Room TV, is toast anyway. Even the children have been fairly interested, intermittently watching and playing with the magnetic letters on the refrigerator.
And every once in a while, cheering as if they were standing in the Convention Center in Denver. As if they were at a Cardinals game.
The Husband and I were puzzled the first night. Then on Tuesday, the Girl stood up next to the window seat, put her bowl in the sink, and said I'm for Obama.
Why? I asked.
Because he seems to be winning. she answered, a duh! Mom! look on her face. Her brother nodded from his perch on the stepstool.
What makes you think that? I asked, and the Boy's face relfected his sister. He waved his hand at the screen, his mouth still full of fried rice.
You do realize we're going to see this repeated next week, with John McCain as the hero, don't you?
The Boy cocked his head, closed one eye, looked at me like Granny's parrot does when it thinks you're going to stick something into the cage. The Girl's eyebrows crouched low over blue eyes, suspicious.
Do you ever hear anyone cheering for the other team at a Razorback game? I asked. Both kids shook their heads. The Husband piped up. Sometimes we hear their band.
I ignored him and went on. It's like a pep rally. This week it's the Democrats, next week the Republicans. We won't hear anything from the other side except on the news. And nobody's really winning yet. That comes in November.
The Girl glanced up to the image of the convention floor, of the delegates waving signs and flags. I could tell she didn't buy it. The Boy nodded, took the last bite of his food, and set the bowl in the sink on his way out of the kitchen.
So last night I turned on the TV when we came in from picnicing in the garden, to listen as I cleaned the cooler and put away the leftovers. And the children cheered along with the crowds as Bill Clinton walked on stage. I wondered if they remembered anything I said the night before.
Like them, I think it's more fun to root for the home team.
And every once in a while, cheering as if they were standing in the Convention Center in Denver. As if they were at a Cardinals game.
The Husband and I were puzzled the first night. Then on Tuesday, the Girl stood up next to the window seat, put her bowl in the sink, and said I'm for Obama.
Why? I asked.
Because he seems to be winning. she answered, a duh! Mom! look on her face. Her brother nodded from his perch on the stepstool.
What makes you think that? I asked, and the Boy's face relfected his sister. He waved his hand at the screen, his mouth still full of fried rice.
You do realize we're going to see this repeated next week, with John McCain as the hero, don't you?
The Boy cocked his head, closed one eye, looked at me like Granny's parrot does when it thinks you're going to stick something into the cage. The Girl's eyebrows crouched low over blue eyes, suspicious.
Do you ever hear anyone cheering for the other team at a Razorback game? I asked. Both kids shook their heads. The Husband piped up. Sometimes we hear their band.
I ignored him and went on. It's like a pep rally. This week it's the Democrats, next week the Republicans. We won't hear anything from the other side except on the news. And nobody's really winning yet. That comes in November.
The Girl glanced up to the image of the convention floor, of the delegates waving signs and flags. I could tell she didn't buy it. The Boy nodded, took the last bite of his food, and set the bowl in the sink on his way out of the kitchen.
So last night I turned on the TV when we came in from picnicing in the garden, to listen as I cleaned the cooler and put away the leftovers. And the children cheered along with the crowds as Bill Clinton walked on stage. I wondered if they remembered anything I said the night before.
Like them, I think it's more fun to root for the home team.
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2 other people thinking:
I love the way kids think.
For younger kids I think its more about whichever team is having more fun.
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How To Be A Prostitute Farmer?
http://www.robschaumer.com/blog/2008/02/20/how-to-be-a-prostitute-farmer/
Sadly, kids aren't the only ones with this outlook when it comes to politics and elections ( as well as life in general, of course). We all want to play on the winning team. The problem comes when we get on a bandwagon without knowing where it's headed.
Nice post - thanks!
Romance writer, Loring Parks, at Juicy Like An Apple
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