Something Of A Sport
My sons had no problems deciphering who I was voting for in the 2020 Presidential Election. When my Biden-Harris bumper stickers arrived, the boys advised me on where to place them on my car.
My sons also knew who I was voting against and why. In fact, they probably internalized that even more. As the election drew closer, they took note of all the Trump and Biden signs around town. They seemed to keep their own score, perhaps establishing in their minds the makeup of the electorate.
When they observed my disdain during the debates, it was manifest in how they called out Trump signs they saw. The week of the election, they wanted to watch the returns. In fact, they seemed more riveted by it than me. Of course, I was simply trying not to give myself a heart attack watching it every moment of the day.
The election became something of a sport for them. I spent a lot time explaining the process and the caliber of candidates and why we voted the way we did. All of this seemed to make sense to them, and as the excitement of Election Day wore off, after they watched the speeches and sensed the news changing away from Trump and toward Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, the kids resumed life as usual, as did the rest of us.
But as with anything traumatic, the pain lingers for a long time, and so I was intrigued when, just the other night, on an evening walk, they plucked a little blue utility flag sticking out of the ground. It became a toy for a moment, then it turned political. They said they were going to make a Joe Biden sign out it. This made me smile. But then later, they decided to make a Trump sign, something that would say Dump Trump or an X over his name.
I had to stop them.
“The election is over, boys. Trump is going away. Let’s not waste any more time on his name. Why not make a sign that says, ‘Go, Joe!’ or how about a sign that says something about Kamala Harris being the first woman Vice President?”
My sons understood this plea immediately. They took their Trump sign in progress, and put it in the waste bin. The waste bin of history.
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Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash
