I took Finn with me to vote this week.
In the car on the way I was trying to explain the concept to him.
“It’s like being asked to raise your hand if you want something,” I said. “Except everyone in the State is being asked who we want for President. We can’t see each other’s hands so we have to write down who we want.”
(I’ll let his uncle Brad explain the whole delegate and electoral college thing some day.)
“Raise your hand?” he asked.
“You know,” I said, “like when you’re at a party and somebody comes in and says ‘Who wants a cupcake?’ and you raise your hand?”
I knew it was a bad example the moment the words left my mouth.
“Ooo I want a cupcake!” he said.
It took the rest of the trip to explain why we were not going to have a cupcake right then. Sometimes I’m good at explaining things, other times not.
We arrived at the polling place, which was thankfully in a fire station. If there’s one thing that can get his mind off a cupcake it’s a fire engine.
As we peeked in the windows at the trucks I wondered how much of this he would remember.
I have vivid memories of my Mom taking me to vote when I was a kid, into the big metal booths with curtains.
She would let me click the levers and when we were done we would pull the long handle and the curtains opened automatically.
I suppose those are still around.
The electronic voting machines don’t instill as much confidence for me.
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