That's the Chicago Way

My 3-year-old daughter proved today that she has a wonderfully engaged civic future ahead of her.

Or a lifetime of rampant political corruption.

We had traveled to our polling place this morning to cast our ballot and remove the swing-state shackles of direct mail and recorded phone calls that had imprisoned us for the last two months. Inside the booth, I made my choices. I directed my daughter to press the orange button, the one which would record my vote. The machine made its happy voting noise, we stepped through the curtain, and I told her, "We did it! We voted! Way to go!" High-fives and happiness all around.

Then, she piped up with a very familiar word, the one she uses whenever she does something she really likes.

"Again."

"Well, sweetheart, next year. We'll come back next year and vote."

"No, I want to vote again! Again!"

I'll have to do some genealogy research to see if we're related to the Daleys of Chicago.