Rock the Vote

For those of you who know me you are probably a little confused by this title because that you know I am politically uninvolved and most of you like to tell me how morally wrong I am for being politcally uninvolved BUT ALAS I AM BEING POLITICALLY INVOLVED RIGHT NOW! As a matter of fact I was offered and have assumed position as campaign manager. For my little brother. Dylan. The one going into ninth grade. The really smart one. So Dylan is running for president of his class ... and the story begins...

"Mamie, my favorite sister." Dylan puts his arm around my neck which would seem loving except that it is a headlock style hug. He's gotten taller than me so I am in a position to listen seeing as to how I can't move.
"Yes Dylan."
"I have a favor to ask you." The arm tightens. "I am running for class president and I need you to help me with your artistic skills." Dylan draws his words out, putting a lot of emphasis on IIIII and YOOOOOUU and MEEEEE so it takes a long time for him to say this. Much longer than I would like to be in a headlock.
What Dylan doesn't know is that I think he is like the worlds coolest kid and I would pretty much do anything for him. But to keep face as the oh-so-cool-super-in-control older sister I don't let him know that, of course I'm gonna do this for him. "Well Dylan, I don't know. I seem to recall wanting you to help me put away the dishes and you weren't so willing ... so maybe you should've thought about this before. I just don't know if this is going to work out. I mean I am a busy, in demand college woman."
Magic words. He forgets his height and newfound adolescent-entering-puberty strength and lets go of my neck.
"Maaaamieee. Come on. You KNOW I was gonna help you. Please. pleeeeeeaaase."
I sigh and cross my arms. It's such a burden being oh-so-cool sometimes. "Well, ok, I guess I'll help you but only because I don't really have anything else to do and I don't want your posters to completely suck."
The wind gets knocked out of me as he half tackles me in what I think was supposed to be a hug.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou. You are my favorite sister ever. thank you." Even though I know I should want my younger brother to be ultra cool and manly, I secretly love that he still doesn't think it's weird to give me a hug and kiss my cheek.
So we get started. Or I get started. Me helping him really means him watching a movie while I draw and color his posters. I don't mind. Every once in a while I get some over-exxagerated compliment.
"Mamie how did you become such an amazing artist?"
"Mamie you are so good at this. You should major in art."
The truth is the posters are just mediocre. I mean not that I didn't try, its just, really, how great can middle school campaign posters be?
Five posters and a box of RoseArt markers later Dylan is well on his way to running for president. Of the ninth grade. VOTE RIGHT! VOTE FOR KNIGHT! ... AMBERCROMBIE & DYLAN ... VOTE FOR DYLAN!
"Well Dyl I think you might win."
"Oh. No I won't. I'll come in third. I'm running against Brooke Adams. She'll win. Mike Shirley will come in second, then me, then Ryan."
"How do you know that? I mean if you already know then why are you running?"
"Oh just for fun. I mean Brooke will win cuz she's most popular. It's really just a popularity contest."
I know he's right and it makes me so mad. It never really bothered me before when I was running because I was on the winning end. But now it makes me mad. I am talking to a kid who knows more about politics than probably half of the administration at that podunk school. He really wants to be president, more than Brooke and of more than just the ninth grade. But I know he's right. And I'm back where I started, mad at politics for being politics. But this time I'm doing something about it. so VOTE FOR DYLAN!