At dinner last night, Adele announced: “I’m voting for…um, what’s his name again?”
“Obama?” I asked.
“Yah, him.”
“Why?”
“I dunno,” she shrugged.
“Because your friends talk about him, probably. Because their moms and dad like him.”
“You who voting for, Mama?” she asked, chomping on carrots and sounding like some Southern belle.
“The only woman on the ticket. Hillary.”
“What’s her last name?”
“Clinton.”
“And she’d be the first woman president?” She seemed awed at the idea.
“Yes,” I remarked.
“ Wow. I’d wanna be that,” she declared.
“Well, that’d be great because it may take that long for Americans to vote for an experienced, competent and capable woman.”
“Woah.”
Yeah, I thought. Let’s see Adele is seven -- in about 40 years she could run for office. Why not?
Her father chimed in a few minutes later. “I was on the radio yesterday.”
“Oh? O’Reilly again?” I asked but not as interested as he would have liked. (He tolerates talk radio because, he claims, we have to know how the other side thinks no matter how distasteful.)
“No some other program, I’m not sure what. I told them Hillary can’t win because she’s not likable.”
“Oh?” I asked slightly more interested.
“They wanted examples.”
“Hmm.”
“But I didn’t want to give in to their agenda.”
Adele chimed in, “I’m not hungry.”
Me neither, I thought.
But Hillary won in Massachusetts.