Declan came home from school earlier this week and informed me he voted for "Ritt Romney" for president. Apparently his class conducted a mock election of sorts and he was tickled to have placed his name in the box next to "Ritt's" name.
I happened to approve of his choice, but I was a little surprised that he didn't choose the other box, since he said it represented a vote for "Bronco Bama." After all, his favorite shirt is his Denver Bronco's jersey.
Later in the week he was unusually upset to hear that Romney did not win the election.
"But I put my name in the box next to Ritt Romney!" he insisted. I made the mistake of telling him that when he voted it was only a mock election, which immediately put him on the defense, as he demanded to know why his vote didn't count.
I started by telling him that he had to wait until he was an adult before he could actually vote, which didn't pacify him much, so I quickly switched to explaining that I too had voted for Romney but more people voted for "Bronco Bama" and that's why "Ritt Romney" wouldn't be president.
He seemed satisfied with that answer, or at least enough so that he could move onto his next adventure.
I knew just how he felt, after voting for Romney and seeing Obama win reelection my vote didn't feel like it counted for a whole lot. But as I watched Declan shrug off his dissapointment as if he had done and said all he could, skipping off into his bedroom to fetch a toy, I realized it was time for me to do the same.
Declan had provided me with my first, cheerful, post-election political conversation. I knew that if I could follow his example, it wouldn't be the first time the little man had taught me a thing or two about life.