Please watch this YouTube video first, so you can sing along with my new lyrics.


Here are the new lyrics:

Well, let me tell you the story of a girl named Missy on that tragic and fateful day.  She put her voter ID in her pocket, kissed her kids and hubby, went to vote on Election Day.

But will she get to vote, oh will she get to vote?  Well, her fate is still unlearned.  She may search forever in her house and car, and she may never get to vote.

Missy handed her registration to the people at the polls, and she asked them if she could vote.  When she got there they told her she had to have a photo ID, or she'd never be able to vote.

But will she get to vote, oh will she get to vote?  Well, her fate is still unlearned.  She may search forever in her house and car, and she may never get to vote.

Missy's husband joined her at the polling station, and he asked her where her ID was.  "In my wallet," Missy told him, "but my wallet's been missing, and I have no idea where it is!"

But will she get to vote, oh will she get to vote?  Well, her fate is still unlearned.  She may search forever in her house and car, and she may never get to vote.

Now, you citizen of the US, don't you think it's a scandal how Missy keeps losing her wallet?  Fight the absent-mindedness!  Send her lots of chocolate!  Help her vote on Election Day!

But will she get to vote, oh will she get to vote?  Well, her fate is still unlearned.  She may search forever in her house and car, and she may never get to vote.


Photo by: Tijmen Stam (Wikicommons)
Thank you very much, everyone, for singing along!  It turns out, the nice ladies at the poll let me vote using a provisional paper ballot, but it will not be counted until I take my voter registration and my driver's license to the courthouse to prove to them that I am who I claim to be.  I plan to do that today because I found my missing wallet in a grocery bag in the pantry.  You know, one of those bags that you crumple up and save for when you want to throw away something particularly smelly.  Oops.

Two weeks ago, Jeremy predicted that I would not be able to vote in this election, and I hotly protested his prediction.  He cited my past election day difficulties in his reasoning, and I had to agree with him sheepishly.  (Apparently, voting brings out the Kingston Trio in me, as evidenced by that last post link.)  But I insisted that this year would be different!  This year, I had time; I had all the necessary supplies; I would vote!  And then I lost my wallet.

But now it's found, so my fate is about to be learned!  Wish me luck!
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Yesterday after school I took the girls to Jeremiah's to get their faces painted for Halloween.




















Janet did a wonderful job on my two little kittens and my brown and white fox, 
and she and Mercy really bonded during Mercy's face-painting session.

Later, Little T's big brother, C, joined us at home and the four of them were very eager to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters who came by.  They organized themselves in advance with each one having a job to do.  One was a door opener, one was a candy basket holder, and the other two were candy passer-outers.  They took this division of labor about as seriously as union workers do, and when the doorbell finally started ringing, no one except the door opener could open the door.  Frequently, the door opener was busy doing other things when the doorbell rang, and so the trick-or-treaters had to stand out in the cold and the rain and wait for the door opener to arrive at his post while the other three children danced around the inside of the closed front door shouting, "Open the door!  Open the door!  Someone's here!  Hurry!  Someone's here!"

About halfway through the evening, the kids noticed that I had not worn anything outrageous this year, and they asked me, "Where's your costume?  What are you going to be?"  I had been planning all along to dash to my closet full of costumes and wigs and surprise them with something fun, but I had run out of time before the trick-or-treaters started arriving, and I didn't want to leave them even for a few minutes to answer the door without me in the room.  So I hadn't worn anything. (Anything costumey that is.  I was wearing clothing.)

Well, the kids decided this would never do.  "You can be a superhero!" Big C decided.  "Yes!" Mercy shouted, and she ran and got her special blue blanket that she sleeps with most nights.  "Here.  This can be your cape, Mommy!" she announced.  I tied it around my neck and posed for the camera.

Then I asked, "What kind of superhero am I?" 

"You can be The Bedtime Superhero, Mommy!" Mercy shouted, "Because you are the best at tucking people in at night!"

My hormonal heart melted, and I bent to give her a quick hug.

"Yes," Big C announced, "and here is your wooden spoon to spank people who get out of bed!"  He dug around in my utensil jar and brought me a wooden spoon.

I had to laugh.  "Uh, thanks, Bud.  Way to ruin the mood."  I grinned at him.  "Can't I have some other superhero thing to use, instead?"

"Here!"  Liberty came running with a green plastic cup.  "You can carry the night-night drinks to thirsty children!"

That is how my Halloween costume morphed into my every night costume, and I gained a new title: The Bedtime Superhero! 
 
Hey, somebody's got to do it, and I'm glad it gets to be me!