ME

ME
Showing posts with label lobbyist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lobbyist. Show all posts

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Spin Doctor and Politician in training?

It is amazing how much our little people take after their parents and grandparents.  My little man comes from a long line of politicians and spin doctors.  His one grandfather held state wide office for years and is now a lobbyist.  His other grandfather is a successful salesman who now holds a local office.  His daddy is a lobbyist who ran a state wide political party, and let’s face it my job has always been political – raising money for political candidates and charities.  You can say he was born to spin a tale, impress a crowd and basically get his way…
 I remember taking my little baby into the local coffee shop and the ladies behind the counter swearing he was going to be President someday.  At only a few months he had developed a sense of stage presence like a mini Bill Clinton.  He would bat his long lashes, flash his big toothless smile and flirt his way to a free muffin. 
At about age four he perfected the art of making a contract.  He somehow convinced his Gogo (my mom) to pay him a dollar to take a nap.  If payment for services he was already going to do wasn’t bad enough, he made her sign a contract to ensure she upheld her end of the bargain.
Once he entered Kindergarten he had a bit more bargaining power.  He now lived in a land based on spelling tests and math homework.  One Sunday night I was watching Sunday Night Football while at the same time trying to uphold the 8:00 bedtime and I was met with a really tough argument.  My  3 ½ foot spin doctor was able to convince me to alter his bedtime saying that him watching the game was going to help him with his numbers.  “See Mommy that is number 57 and number 35 just tackled him…”  My little man won a later bedtime that night.
The problem is that my little man is now using his powers of persuasion and storytelling on his friends.  After the infamous black eye incident I heard him on the phone with my dad.  “Pop Pop I have a black eye.  Yep!  Yesterday, during my game, I caught a fly ball with my eye”.  What!?!   That is NOT the story I remember.  How did he turn a bruise in the shower into a baseball injury?  Like any good mother, I confronted him and told him I do not appreciate him making up stories. 
“Ok Mom” he said, “but falling in the shower is really not cool.”
Good point, little man, good point.