Be All That You Can Be

On my way home from work yesterday, I stopped to visit my local grocer to pick up chili-making essentials in anticipation of a major ice storm and subsequent snow days. The ice storm didn’t come in my part of the state, no snow days were issued, and something went bad wrong with the chili.

But, being the bright-eyed optimist I strive to be, I decided today not to focus on the chili that smells like wet socks, or the fact that I’ve spent the entire day at work. I focused on the young African American girl who made me smile so broadly while I waited in the Oh-My-God-Things-Are-Predicted-To-Fall-Out-Of-The-Sky-So-We-Must-Stock-Up-On-Bread-And-Milk checkout line.

As you know, checkout lanes are lined with magazines featuring celebrities who are too fat, celebrities who are too thin and celebrities who are just right. Oddly enough, not yesterday. I hadn’t noticed that three of the six magazines had a picture of President Obama on front until I heard:

“Daddy, is that President Obama?” a little voice squeaked behind me.

I turned to see a cutie, cutie little face peaking out of a pink and blue stripped tobaggon with a ball on top. She was accompanied by a young man who looked entirely too young to be her father.

“Yes, it is,” Daddy responded.

“How long will he be president?”

“Four years. See every four years we have a presidential election. Obama can run again then,” Daddy explained while tapping his foot and being seemingly annoyed that the line was taking forever (me too, Daddy, me too).

“So he can be president again?” the little girl continued.

“Yes, if he’s reelected. He can serve up to eight years. “

“Can a girl be president?” cutie little girl asked.

“Of course,” Daddy said. There was a slight pause, and Daddy added,

“If she wins.”


L.