I admit it. I am a complete idiot when it comes to politics. I don't read newspapers and I don't watch the news, but I can tell you why. Newspapers are too big and cumbersome and they turn my fingers black! Seriously - an opened newspaper is the size of me - and I have no patience for folding it all up so that I can read it while turning my fingers black.
And the news is always just depressing....
BUT, I do like for my friends or husband to explain things to me. And I do travel in circles of people who know a lot about politics. So, I have gained some knowledge through osmosis (just in case you were really worried about me).
The other day the city elections were held and I had seen the signs that a nice guy in town was running for office. This guy sits behind us at the Ole Miss basketball games, is friendly, supportive, a true Oxford character and I am certain loves our little city enough to give it all he's got.
I know nothing about the guy he's running against - not even his name.
So, I proudly trucked my 2 chickens over to the voting place in all of my patriotic glory. We walked up to the table where the nice lady reviewed her large book. "I'm sorry but you aren't listed as a registered voter."
Not to worry. For some unlikely reason, I actually HAD my voter registration card. "Here is my card," I said to her while winking at my daughters.
She looked back at her book and shrugged. "You're not in here, Ma'am. You need to see that man over there." She pointed to a large scary man across the room.
I walked up and proudly presented my card after frantically looking to see if it had expired or something. Do voter cards expire?
"Ma'am, you live in the county and this is a city election," he told me.
Gulp. Here I was trying to be political and teach my daughters a voting lesson and I failed miserably! I smiled and put my card back in my wallet and escorted them back out to the car. Then I told my daughter through giggles that she had a dork of a mom and that I was scared I would have to speak to the incumbent and tell him that I couldn't vote.
In the car my daughter said, "What's an incumbent?"
I paused. "I honestly don't know."
We burst out laughing. "What if it means rotten cucumber, Mom?"
"Dang. For all I know it does."
We laughed some more before calling SF and asking her. After hearing my story, she explained that I did not speak to the incumbent and should not use that word in front of my daughters anymore. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
Lord help me, I agree.
But I DO know how to make a mean fettucine, bottle feed an infant squirrel and assemble a crack team of manuscript professionals (story coming soon). So take that! political people!!