Every Vote Counts, Unless You Can’t Get Your Ballot Into The Machine

I’m pretty sure that I have the Mother of the Year ’12 Award in my purse, because everyone knows WINNER, WINNER, CHICKEN DINNER, when you let your boy eat baked-from-scratch chocolate cake for breakfast.

And maybe it wasn’t so much as I LET him eat it, as HUBS LET HIM EAT IT, and by the time I discovered what had happened, it was too late for me to say much of anything.

(Other than, you know, the OBVIOUS, which is, “You’re going to come off of that sugar high and crash in second period science class, and then what will you say?  You’ll say, ‘I knew I should have had yogurt and microwaved sausage, like my mom wanted to fix me.’  That’s what you’ll say.”)

(While I was shuffling mascara and lip gloss around this morning and trying to create a vision in the mirror that would put Audrey Hepburn to shame, Hubs and the boy were in our kitchen, loading their plates up with thick slices of Hubs’ birthday cake.  Clearly, Hubs thinks he’s in competition for Mother of the Year ’12, which could be a bad thing.  Because, although Hubs insists that he doesn’t look good in a fashion-statement scarf while he’s clutching a purse, if he decides to enter a competition, he plays until he wins or until there’s blood.)

Hubs’ parents bought him a TV for our bedroom, which was absolutely lovely.  I can now sit at the neighbor’s house and clearly see the picture through our bedroom window, because WHOA, BETTY!  THAT’S A LARGE SCREEN!  I think they were buying the GOOD FOR A LIFETIME TV, that won’t have to be traded in when we’re 96 years old and need Lawrence Welk to be just a little bit bigger so we can actually SEE him and all the on-screen dancing.  As it stands, Lawrence Welk is life-sized and makes the Hulk look tiny.

This morning, we watched the LARGER THAN LIFE news, and it was exactly like being at the movie theater, just without the extra-butter popcorn.  And do you know what we heard on the news?

Intimidation at the voting polls.  That’s what we heard.

The anchorman even said, “It has been reported that a group of retired Navy SEALS are standing outside of the polls…”

I looked at Hubs and said, “Good grief.  Do you have to go man the polls today, too?”

(Because Hubs considers himself a SEAL, even though he held up two boxes of Krave cereal one day last week and said, “This is the flavor of Krave the boy BUYS, and then he eats THIS FLAVOR, which is driving me crazy, because THIS FLAVOR is MY FLAVOR!”  And do you know what, people?  Both boxes were exactly the same flavor, and Hubs had no idea what he was talking about.  Navy SEALS don’t get their boxes of cereal mixed up.)

No matter.

Hubs looked at me and said, “I’m on call for protecting the polls today, yes.  I may have to go in.  They’re just using low-grade SEALs right now.  If there’s an emergency that they can’t handle, I’ll go take over.  I have my pager.”

His pager?  What is this?  1996?

And then I went on to compliment the new Under Armour shirt that my parents gave to Hubs yesterday for his birthday.  I said, “You look pretty tough in that shirt.”

Hubs said, “Look?  Excuse me?  I AM tough in this shirt!  I’m tough in EVERY shirt!”

And so that’s how our day started this morning, people.

And then Hubs and I went to vote first thing this morning.  When I tried to shove my ballot into the electric “grab-it-and-store-it” box, it wouldn’t go.  The lady who hollers out your name like the town crier when you vote and hands you a sticker said, “Just give it a little shove, Honey; the rollers will grab it and suck your ballot right inside.”  So I tried it again, and the machine gave an ERROR message.  Four tries later, my ballot was in the box, and Hubs said, “Of all the people I can think of who might have trouble with the ballot-collecting machine, you’re at the top of the list.  You didn’t disappoint me.”

Apparently I do need the help of the SEALs at the polls.  It was like I was trying to cram a wrinkled dollar bill into a vending machine, and it kept spitting it back out at me.  It’s always nice to know that someone who isn’t afraid to jump out of a perfectly good airplane into an ocean of freezing water and swim to the shore to rescue someone is there to help me cram a ballot into an electronic machine.

Y’all have a fantastic Tuesday evening.  And just remember… If you ever think your eyesight is beginning to fail, and you cannot see the news anchor on your Fox News Channel at home, just come on over and watch TV in our bed.  We’ll save you the cost of new glasses.  Even Stevie Wonder could see this TV screen.

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