I am not making this up, nor did I coach my four-year-old son in any way. He looked over my shoulder while I was watching Fred Thompson call out Huckabee for what he stands for.

Son: “Who is the president of Oregon?”

Me: “We don’t have a president of Oregon. We have a governor. His name is Ted Kulongoski. But we have a president of the United States, and his name is George Bush. In November, we’ll vote for a new president of the United States.”

Son: “Who is it going to be?”

Me: “We have to vote to find out. Voting is how we choose the president. Voting is choosing, for the president.”

Son: “Well, my president is Fred Thompson.”

Me: …

Me (trying, and failing, to keep a straight face): “Why is that?”

Son: “Because it’s my favorite and I love it.”

“I am appalled that I ever liked Huckabee”

–Rachel Lucas

“As has so often happened in the great crises of her history, France produced a man.”

–Winston S. Churchill, speaking of Joseph Dupleix, in The Age of Revolution

Son, singing a song we’d listened to in the car while running errands: “God spoke to Moses from a burning book, burning book, burning book…”

Me: “No, honey, it’s burning bush. God spoke to Moses from a burning bush.”

Son: …

Son: “God was hiding in the bushes.”

Update: Conversation of the Day, Part 2:

Son, wailing at bedtime: “I want to read in my room!!!”

Mom, after a couple glasses of cabernet: “Okay. Fifteen minutes.”

Daddyman, whose job it is to put the boy to bed: “Fifteen minutes! You certainly do have a lenient mother.”

Son: “Where?”

Somebody came to this blog by googling the phrase “how healthy is it to live in oregon.”

Well, it depends. What political persuasion are you, and how high do you like your blood pressure?

Or, Here’s One for My Kucinich-Liking Friend(s).

It’s great that Pizza Hut’s encouraging people to vote, but a few Kucinich supporters don’t like how they went about it.

Hey, he didn’t say he’d seen one.

(Via Hot Air headlines.)

I get a big kick out of this movie, as campy as it is. Can’t say I would ever have thought of making a tribute video, however.

Me to son: “Did you know you used to live inside Mommy’s tummy?” (Discussion of more anatomically exacting specification followed, for the curious.)

Son: “Yes. I took a slide in your tummy, and I came out in your right foot.”

Son: “Do you have a cold?”

Me: “No, but since you have one I might get one soon. It’s contagious. That means the germs will jump off you and onto Mommy, and then I’ll have a cold.”

Son (reassuring): “I’ll help you let them jump off you and onto Daddy.”

Son, perusing a 1964 book called If You Lived in Colonial Times: “Mama, are you a woman?”

Me: “Yep.”

Son, consulting book: “You may never vote.”

That

didn’t last long.

“In an unrelated act, I married a Yankee who won’t let the dog come in the house.”

Renee’s hair here or the fact that I probably had this issue of Tiger Beat. Or if not this exact one, I had one of the scores just like it.

And whither today? Kirk’s probably voting for Huckabee. Right off the rails, my adorable adolescent love.