Both Mommy and Daddy thought it was really important that we go vote together, so we walked down as one unifed unit to the polling booth on Valencia and waited in line to do something that's distinctly American. Mommy told me how important it is to have my voice be heard. I do that when I want my binky. But I think she means that I have the ability to make a difference in a country, and it's my duty to do so.
Got it, Mommy. Will do in eighteen years.
For the record, I'm an Obama guy. I like his ears. And his voice comforts me.
Anyways, ten hours later, when my guy won (that would make my record 1-0), we watched as the new President-elect made his acceptance speech. Daddy and Mommy were so proud to be Americans. They hung on his every word. And as I rested on Daddy's chest, I gripped harder with each sentence.
It was cool seeing my parents react like that about something that didn't immediately involve me.
But, after listening to them talk about what just happened and after reading over Daddy's shoulder as he updated his own blog, I realized something that really touches me (and something I'll never forget or try to exploit): that everything that happens in their lives is always about me.
If I could have voted for them as my parents, I would have.