Truth

We've got a runoff election here in Georgia today, and for the past week computers across America have been calling us, urging us to vote for the candidate of their choice.  The situation has really gotten out of hand, and I've stopped answering the phone at home during the day.  

This hasn't been much of a problem, since I'm usually home alone, but yesterday Kristie subbed at the boys' school, and so I had Jonah at home alone for a few hours.  After the first few robo-calls, I told him not to answer the phone.  It's a big boy thing, to answer the phone, and the big three all wait anxiously when the phone rings, hoping against hope that they'll be called on to answer it.  Remember looking forward to answering the phone?  To driving? To getting the mail?  Sam loves to get the mail.  But, then again, he doesn't have to pay any of the bills.

As the day progressed, more calls came in and things were fine.  Then, after one call, I heard Jonah crying.  He knocked on my office door, very upset.  I walked down and hugged him, and waited for him to calm down.

I asked, "What happened?"

He cried, "There's a scary message."

My initial reaction, of course, was anger.  I could hear in my mind the low-pitched, scary-movie-trailer-voice-guy railing against the wickedness of one candidate or the other.  The message was on the machine, so I asked Jonah to leave the room while I listened to it.

It was Michael Reagan, Ronnie's boy.

Chipper as can be, Mike was touting the virtues of Saxby Chambliss, who was running for Senate.  Reagan talked a little about what Obama would do with a 60-seat Senate.

Surely this couldn't be what upset Jonah.  But it was the only message on the machine.  I called Jonah back in and played it again.  "Is this what scared you?"

He nodded.

"What did it say that was scary?"

"He said Obama's gonna do bad things to us."

"Like what?"

"Raise taxes."

To my great credit, I kept a straight face. Then I asked, "Do you know what taxes are?"

He nodded.

"Tell me what taxes are."

"It's when the government takes your money."

I hugged him again, and told him Obama wouldn't take all our money.  He calmed down, then went off to his room, presumably to begin hiding his Webkinz.  My little Republican.