I was so tired - tired enough to pour orange juice in the cereal bowls. I was groggy enough to wonder why my youngest was shouting, "But mama I'm not a goy-il; I am a boy!" as I accidentally dressed him in his sister's pink striped tights. I felt sleepily confused to the extent that I mistook the cat for my husband, glaring at him for sitting there and not helping me find missing school library books. But it wasn't my fault, it was the fault of democracy.
"Mama, why did you need to go out so late on election night? I mean, what did you have to do?" my oldest asked. I explained that I needed to talk to the politicians and get their pictures when they won or lost.
|How I spent my election night.|
"Yes?" I answered, opening the door again to switch my shoes and grab my hot tea that I put in the refrigerator along with a box of Cheerios.
"Did you tell them, 'I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me' ?" My son was singing the Lady Gaga song lyrics in his question, but I cut him off before he finished "papa, papar..," because I felt grumpy.