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The news is on, and the Governor of South Carolina is apologizing. And apologizing. And then, to cap things off, he apologizes some more. I mutter something to myself about ‘too much information’ and my daughter asks: “What did he do?”
Darn, she was paying attention. Never mind that I’ve asked her twice already to go upstairs and brush her teeth; when something goes down on the evening news she suddenly becomes very interested.
“He kissed someone else, and now he’s being raked over the coals,” my husband jumps in. Yeah, nice try; as if she falls for that.
“Why?”
“Well, eh, he is married, and then he kissed someone, and that someone was not his wife.”
“I kiss people and I’m not married,” she says, and I wait to hear what my husband is going to say to that. Obviously, she’s not buying the whole kissing thing. I don’t interfere, because I enjoy watching my husband squirm.
“It’s a different kind of kissing,” he finally says, “the type of kissing that only married people do.”
She doesn’t ask any more questions because she has to mull this over. Never mind that the Governor probably did a whole lot more than kissing; we’re not going to explain that to a seven-year-old; thinking about a “different kind of kissing” should keep her occupied for a while, and at the very least will buy us some time.
Our kids can learn much from the evening news. In fact, CNN more often than not provides us with excellent learning opportunities. Kids can learn about racism, about hunger, about politics, about the myriad ways in which human beings hurt and sometimes heal each other. The transgressions of yet another politician belong in that list, but not for the obvious reasons.
Cheating in a marriage is bad, whether you are in the public eye or not. The family of a high-ranking politician experiences a private pain that is no better or worse than that of the family on the next block that nobody knows about. The public pain, however, is a different matter entirely. In America, when the mighty fall, they fall hard. And just like in kindergarten, we all like to stand by the sidelines and point. I don’t mean to be preachy; I do the same thing. I’ve never met a breaking news logo I didn’t respond to.
Sure, I would love for my children to grow up into responsible, honest adults, I’d like them to make somebody a loyal partner, and I’d like that hypothetical partner to be loyal to them. But what I’d like even more is for them to not be overly judgmental when other people stumble. A little finger pointing goes a long way.
As it turns out, my daughter never asks any follow-up questions about Governor Sanford and his kissing, so until the next scandal breaks we are off the hook. I guess the story wasn’t all that interesting to her to begin with; apparently, only adults think this sort of stuff is exciting and entertaining. I should be proud, but I know better: if she’s anything like me, she’ll grow out of that in no time.