I, along with millions of other Americans, registered my vote for president last week. I brought Madeline along so she could get her first taste of the voting process which, as it turns out, was quite literal. While I was dutifully studying the paper ballot in front of us, she had gone into stealth mode and leaned in for a taste of democracy. If I’m honest, as long as this campaign has dragged on, I wanted to join her. Although given the look on her face, I gathered that ballots weren’t the tastiest things. Fortunately, I was able to stop her before her slobbers voided my ballot.
Once I felt confident that I understood the instructions, I placed the pen in her hand and wrapped her tiny fingers around it. I wanted her to help daddy vote. After convincing her that pens, too, were not for eating, we got down to business. As we sat there filling in boxes I realized that this election, unlike past elections, was less about me and more about this little person that was perched on my knee. The choices I was making would affect her as well. Through my vote I am responsible for the decisions that will shape her country. And so, I voted for the people I believe will make the best decisions—for Madeline’s sake.