Waking Up, Smelling the Coffee

fyi - pictures have nothing to do with the text

We woke up on Inauguration Day to the usual radio voices. Or rather, we were waking up to them, when I heard a voice chirrup from the boys' room, "They said, 'Barack Obama!'" and then, "They said, 'Barack Obama' again!" and then, "Oh! They said it again!" And then another wee voice piped up, "Why-y-y?" And the first one answered, "Because he's The Good Guy!"

Later that evening (Washington, DC time + 6 hours), we settled into the couch with apples and oranges and lots of blankets, and I pleaded with the boys to keep their questions to a minimum and low-pitched until the end, so's I could hear the voices on the TV. They complied the best they could. And they spontaneously held my hands and cuddled close. At one point, one boy raised his hand. I called on him, and he leaned in and whispered, "Mommy?! They're talking at the same time as Barack Obama! I can't hear him!" The translator's wishy-washy, loud job was bothering him, too! ha! ha! (continued below...)

smoking at the diner - thanks, Disney

(continued from above...) Then the other boy stood up and said, "Can you pause it? I have to pee-pee!" My boys aren't used to watching TV (though they do watch movies, and with gusto). Later, when a visibly moved Bernard Kouchner spoke about his impressions of the day's events, the boys asked, "Can he see us?" At first I was a bit flummoxed, but then I realised that they've only really ever watched stories, and not actual events or people answering questions from off-screen. It was funny; made me think of the scene in O Sullivan's Twenty Years A-Growing, when he's arrived in Dublin, and his friend takes him to the pictures. (Oh my gosh. I just found it on the internet. If you're interested, click here.)

But back to Washington, DC and Strasbourg, France, on the 20th of January, 2009. The boys and their mom are still in front of the TV, watching an extraordinary, historical moment unfold before their eyes. And at the end, when the Obamas and Bidens were standing on the tarmac and waving, one boy knit his brow and held up his palms, asking, " "Why are they waving?" I explained. He asked, "Why are they doing that for so long? They can go now! The other guy, he's a BAD GUY! [And] he's GONE!" I had to cede the point. But was forced to explain the idea of decorum, nonetheless.

I am so relieved. But still, of course, anxious to see how things pan out... Eek!