This, however, was her first Presidential election. In 2008, she hadn’t been conceived. I was excited to take her, and she was pumped to “vote for Daddy!” Luckily, with the number of people who voted early, we were in and out in about 10 minutes, which was nice considering it was rainy and dreary.
When we got to the voting machine, Lucy wanted to push the button, something I had planned to let her do anyway to involve her in the process. I showed her who to vote for (Barack Obama, for those who are curious), and she pushed the button — for Mitt Romney! I pushed the “previous” button and tried to fix the mistake. Wasn’t happening.
So, I went to the end of the ballot, followed the instructions to fix a vote by clicking the race and — BAM! My ballot was submitted. With a vote for the last person on Earth I would want to be President.
I think everyone in the precinct heard me gasp, and I rushed Lucy out, lecturing her along the way. But, when it comes down to it, it wasn’t her fault. I was the one who let her vote. And, though my mistaken vote makes my stomach churn, I get a bit of peace in knowing that, as a Georgia resident, my vote wouldn’t have mattered anyway. A Democratic candidate doesn’t stand a chance here in the deep South.
But, as we watch the election returns tonight, I will be watching our state’s results closely. My Dad said it would be hilarious if the entire election came down to one vote in Georgia. In that case, I’d be writing a book titled “How My Toddler Decided the Presidential Election”.
That won’t happen. Now, I can only hope that, as Lucy exuberantly said as we left our precinct, “We’re gonna win!”