Participating in a political process

If, for whatever reason, you read my blog and don't know me personally, let me set you straight - I am a little bit nuts. Not in a cross-the-street-to-avoid-the-drooling-freak sort of way, but in a neurotic, occasionally annoying, but usually funny way.

Yesterday was the big vote. And I received a chipper email this morning informing me that the budget had indeed passed, by 95 votes. The polls were open at 2 PM yesterday, so I decided to head down to my polling place, a local synagogue, after the bus arrived at 3. It's only about a 5 block walk, and parking is hard to come by on our main street, so I put Lin in the stroller and we walked despite the drizzle.

Alec had taken the girls to an Easter egg hunt a few weeks back at the Reform Church, and the party favors, most of them religious, had ended up in the bottom of the stroller. Notably, an Easter crown of eggs - about 8 eggs linked together paper doll-style each with a little saying about God, miracles, and Jesus. So seconds before we are about to enter one of the borough's conservative temples, Lauren has adorned herself with a paper crown that announces Jesus Loves Me!.

God has the best sense of humor though. Seriously. He really has to take his stand up routine on the road and tour with Seinfeld.

Just as we turned the corner, the paper crown blew off.

A girl, a couple years older than Lauren caught it in the air and handed it back to her. Lauren replied, "I think we should put this away now, Mom. I don't want to lose it."

"Oh ok. " I replied, tucking it back into the bottom of the stroller. I believe in miracles! beamed up from inside the black mesh basket.

We entered the synagogue, the crown forgotten. Since I had mentioned at the bus stop that Lauren would get a treat after this was over, that we'd reached the destination caused that thought to become itchy. "So, where's my treat?"

"After we're done, hon." I replied. Lindsay had become fussy, so I was trying to read the district numbers for each check in table while I rocked the stroller back and forth.

"What is it?"

"A lollipop."

"May I have it?"

And usually, my friends, I offer a lollipop as a treat because it in of itself is a quiet distraction. I collect the ones that the bank gives away so I usually have a stash of Wachovia blue and green. If it was the sort you buy at the store, it would've had the reassuring K to indicate that one might use is as bait in the synogogue, but after the banana bread incident, I don't take these chances. "Once we leave. They have a lot of rules about food in a synagogue."

Lauren looked enchanted - her favorite sort of rules are food rules. "Really, what kind of rules?" she asked loudly.

"No lollipops." I lied.

"Ohhh." she breathed. "Ok." She watched excitedly as I pushed buttons, and pushed the big red VOTE button when I finished.

As we walked to the door, she stopped the smartly dressed woman entering to warn her, "No lollipops in here, ma'am. They have food rules."

Oy.