Historic Moments

P has never seen me watch TV before (der :) we don't even own one) But come last Tuesday, I told him we had a mid-morning date with history. Having pulled the victorious voting switch himself a few months ago (bad mommy moment: P was actually running a fairly significant fever that day.... But it was two blocks away and I pushed him, uber-bundled, in a stroller!) he has been informed each step of the way in this election and there was no reason to stop short of such an historic inauguration.

Nevertheless, I wasn't sure how much info to give the kid. P realized it was a happy time just because we won't have to see W's mug anymore, but there was so much more to it this time than the regular changing of the guard. Yet, when are racial strife and persecution appropriately introduced to a cluelessly all-loving, everyone is equal kind of kid? I mean, any time is a good time to promote the absence of prejudice, but what if there isn't any inkling that prejudice even exists?

So I queried said kid. Had he ever noticed there were lots of different shades/colors to people's skin? Nope. No recognition at all of the question. And, raising him in the enormously diverse borough of Brooklyn with friends of numerous backgrounds, why would he? Loving his innate assumption of equality (that he demonstrates every day in different ways) I decided to leave this subject to a later date and enjoyed the meaning of the moment quietly.

So we sat down (well, he stood) and watched (thanks to the NYTimes live video) some introductions ("Kinda boring, Mama"), the quartet ("This isn't Boring!!!!), and the new president's speech. While openly joyous that W was on his way out, I didn't think we'd been waxing too poetic about the new prez. Apparently, not so. As we watched Obama speak P quizzed me.

P: Mama, you love Obama?
Me: Umm, I'm very hopeful P.
P: (Long Pause) Mama, you wish you married Obama instead of Papa?
Me: (Insert guffaw) No! I wanted to marry Papa! I just wanted Obama to be president :)
P: (Another long pause) Mama, is Obama a gooder person that you?
Me: Hah! I'm the best P! Really, P, I try to be a good person, and hopefully so does Mr. Obama.
P (Nuther looong pause) Mama, is Obama a gooder person than me?

Guess he felt the happy vibes emanating from every pore of my existence that day and translated my immense relief that the great Bush Monster was being buried as true love :)

He was fairly riveted for the beginning of the speech, squidgeted and quizzed in the middle and departed for the tail end - but seemed aware something grand was in the air - he didn't ask me to stop watching with him :)