"I'm Doing A Trump."

Let me pre-warn you that this story dips a toe into the political pool (but from the point of view of a child). 

Our household is made up of two parents who belong to different political parties and live in harmony (just kidding about the harmony- we discuss politics frequently and know how to trigger each other when it comes to politics- so our trigger fingers are often sore from being overworked. It's a mystery how we have been married for almost a decade.)  

But, on a positive note, due to our differing stances on politics and how the world should work, our children are exposed to different ends of the spectrum.  Hopefully, this is laying the groundwork for them to independently decide what they believe and allows them to talk about it openly. 

This morning I was helping Chase finish his homework (that was due today of course, because that is how Chase rolls.  He forgets his homework at school and realizes at 7pm when he is getting ready for bed and then we end up doing homework at his desk in his classroom minutes before recess starts).  

Any who, Chase started to write a word but in the process, he messed up on one of the letters.  Since he messed up on it, he just continued to make that particular letter a jumbled mess, making it so you couldn't even tell what letter it was supposed to be.  

I asked, “What are you doing?” 

He replied, “I’m doing a Trump.”  

Of course this peaked my interested so I inquired further, “What does that mean?” 

He responded, “You know how when Trump does something wrong, and then just keeps doing the same thing wrong over and over and then maybe someone will think it’s right? That’s what I did.”  
Me: “Erase it and start over.”  

This isn't the first time my child has nonchalantly criticized the President. (Did you notice that I capitalized the word, "President" to show some sort of respect? (That was big of me, wasn't it?!  I really am becoming an adult.) 

Flashback to a blog 2 years ago:

"As we were walking out of the grocery store Chase was trying to open his container of tic-tacs not paying attention and he walked directly into the sliding glass doors.  And I don’t mean he tapped into it.  He smacked the glass, hard.  Like there were grease marks from his face on the glass (Side note: my child may be in need of “hygiene night” according to his body outline that was smeared onto the glass).  

As my child pried himself off of the glass door, he took a step back, shook his head, looked me directly in the eyes and said, “Wow, that must be how Trump feels. You know, because he’s a loser.” "

Through the eyes of a babe will we change the future. 

On an completely unrelated note- Ryder was having a rough morning.
Ryder: "Mom, I fell off of my bike."
Me: "I see that."