Why?

Jrette. is 2½. She has reached the age when "Why?" is the question for everything. Everything I say to her, it seems, leads to a "why?"

Of course, the next stage is represented by Jr., at 8½, who no longer asks "why?" because he knows everything.

And then there's me. At 42 ... okay, almost 42½ ... I ask "why?" all the time: "Why do so many people think John McCain -- er, Huggy Bear -- is the best man to be president?" "Why are the mass media arrayed against the truth?" "Why is Drunky McStagger respected by anyone, anywhere, at any time?" ... and so on.

The answers for the kids tend to be easier, I'm afraid.

Monday Book Blogging

The power of parent propaganda is potent and persuasive (and I like alliteration when I'm tired). I recently caught myself poo-poo-ing teenage girl singers who do that phony cutesy-sexy thing that I can't stand. I figure my daughters can make up their own minds about music, so I'll try to keep my opinions in perspective. But when it comes to politics, I have no qualms about telling the truth as I see it.

A friend of mine, whose daughter was in my daycare at the time, brought me this book sometime before the last election so that, as she said, I could combine my vocation and my avocation. The story started many conversations with my children and some of the older daycare children and gave me lots of opportunities to indoctrinate them into the progressive paradise. The cliff hanger ending in The Three Little Pigs Buy The White House, by Dan Piraro, was resolved unfavorably in real life, but it ain't over yet...