That's One for the Books

I tried to vote early today.

Let me say that again. I tried to vote early today. The implied failure is not due to long waits, malfunctioning voting machines, or other voter nightmares. No... my difficulty was -- no two ways about it -- another day of life with the Wonder Twins.

Perhaps you're wondering, "Why on earth would you take Cable and Parker with you to vote?" There are two answers to that question, so it must be your lucky day, 'cause I know it ain't mine.

1) With estimated wait times of 2-3 hours at the polls, I could not have left the boys in Late Day and returned to pick them up in time. And, just to review, I fly this plane solo.

2) Silly to regular, "normal" people, but a source of great pride for me, is the fact that Cable and Parker have developed a genuine enthusiasm for this election (for Barack Obama, specifically). While I know five-year-old boys are not naturally drawn to politics, making their spirit almost entirely the result of my influence, their excitement is rather endearing.

In five-year-old terms, they have learned about democracy, elections, voting, who gets to vote, why you must vote, as well as the defining qualities of Republicans vs. Democrats, and their respective candidates. They have learned about running mates, legitimate reasons for choosing a running mate, and campaign trails. They have visited our local Obama headquarters (three times), and called out their hoorays when our long-awaited Obama sign went up in the yard.

On our way to and from school, they report on everyone else's campaign signage from the back seat. It goes something like this:

Parker: "Oooh! Mommy! Obama-Biden sign! Obama-Biden!"

Cable: "Where? Where!?!"

Parker: *pointing vigorously* "Right THERE!!!"

Cable: "Oh, I see it! I see it!"

. . . four houses pass . . .

Cable: *shaking his head* "Aww... McCain-Palin."

Parker: "There's another McCain-Palin..."

Cable: "Oh! Look! It's a huge Obama sign! Whoa! That's ginormous!!!"

Parker: "Oh, MAN! That is huge, right, Cable?"

. . . more houses . . .

Parker: "Oh no, there's another McCain-Palin."

Cable: Wait! Obama-Biden! Obama-Biden! Over there!"

...And that's pretty much our entire commute, during which I wonder to myself, "Have I created two monsters?"

Even when someone gives them a hard time, for example, "Ok, boys... When you go to vote, make sure you mark the box that says 'John McCain,' right?" And they answer, "Ohhhh No! Not John McCain and Sarah Palin. We're voting for Barack Obama, sir!"

So, that said, Cable and Parker have invested a little bit of themselves in this thing, too. Which is why I really wanted them by my side to claim their own little piece of history in the making when I cast that ballot. I want them to be able to say "When I was five, Barack Obama became president. And I was there and I helped vote for him!"

After today, however...

We had been in line for about an hour, 4-5:00 pm, when they (and by "they," I mean Cable, followed half as convincingly by Parker) decidedly turned on me. And there was at least another hour to go.

Up until this moment, I had managed to hold my own, thanks to the novelty of sitting on the floor, sitting under folding tables, and looking at random points of interest in the vestibule of a church, which both boys found to be adequately fun and just mischievous enough to feel like they were pushing the envelope, but not really going to get in trouble. (Several people in our part of the line had even commented on their good behavior).

When that started to deteriorate, I moved on to Plan B, Mommy's Notebooks and Pens From Inside Her Purse, which any other day of the week would be off-limits. You can imagine my inner panic when I could only find one pen... 'Oh, dear God in Heaven, this is Your turf. Surely You can produce a single pen or just any writing utensil so we can help Barack Obama become the next President today and I don't have to come back... please-please-pleeeeease."

Or not.

I was just about to ask the nice ladies in front of us if either of them had a pen we could borrow, when Cable launched his attack.

In rare form, my second-born (about to be first-dragged-to-the-car-in-public) son, who had been receiving increasingly frequent and stern reminders to stand up/come here/stand by me/be still/use a quieter voice/stop touching that/don't open th-- I said DON'T open that door/quit waving your stuffed dog in the air and bumping people next to us, etc. decided that now would be a good time to try out rolling on the floor, saying "No, no, no, no, no, nah-nah-nah," with no end in sight.

Parker, who really wasn't taking part in it, but is just too smitten with his twin to stand by without reacting, began to giggle, which became a laugh, which became a squealing "CA-BOL! Oh! Hahahahahaha! Ohhhh! CA-BOL!"

This is where I'm pretty sure I heard the word "penis," as in, "I am shooting my PEEE-NIS, PAH-KOH!"

Not even doing my part to put Barack Obama in the White House could have stopped me from yanking that child up off the floor. When he made himself dead weight, I literally let him go and, to the sound of Parker's pleading "No, Mommeeee! We want to VOTE!" just kept walking. They did the smart thing, and followed me out the front doors, where I grabbed Parker's hand, but couldn't get Cable, who, in his oblivious jackass-ing state of mind, ran out into the parking lot as if he was heading out to the Lamplighter playground. Fortunately for the Jackass, many of those voting were of the McCain-Palin persuasion, so the car coming around the corner as he ran out into the lot and sat down on the cement to catch his breath between fits of laughter was, well... you know, barely moving.

Whatever you're thinking is probably accurate here.

Getting into the car was the finale, and I have to just say on the record here, I could not FREAKING BELIEVE that they hadn't stopped yet. I had a hard time buckling their seat belts, not so much out of pure rage, but out of shock that they were still going full steam ahead.

Once they were buckled in (God couldn't send down a pen, but it was a miracle that they stayed in their seats, since unbuckling at inappropriate times occasionally pops up in their repertoire), I got into the car, put the keys in the ignition, took a breath, checked that the windows were all the way up, and proceeded to LET. THEM. HAVE. IT.

Highlights included informing them not only of Senator Obama's disappointment, but also of the rest of their evening's activities, which had just been reduced to sitting on their bed in total silence until I felt certain they would be safe in the same room with me. Dinner was still in question. Partaking would depend on a) the sitting and b) the silence.

We arrived home, they each made a stop in the bathroom so we could nip that excuse in the bud, and Cable was shown to his room, Parker to mine, and both doors were shut with instructions not to open those doors for any reason whatsoever unless there was an emergency involving blood or lack of oxygen. If something was needed, they could knock on the door from the inside, and I'd come to hear their request.

I made dinner with minimal interruptions, just the occasional knock-knock-knock from down the hall.

They did get to eat dinner. Cable went straight back to his room. Parker was permitted to draw at the dining room table. In silence.

When I finished cleaning up the kitchen, they went potty and I brushed their teeth. I read two stories, since that's a guaranteed way to get them in their beds for the night. I put on their sleepy time music (Radiohead lullabyes).

Parker rocked first, and Cable, who doesn't always choose to, did rock tonight.

Both seemed thankful that they would see tomorrow.