by Benjamin J. Kirby
This is an unpopular phrase Emeline, our two and-a-half year-old, has started employing with a bit more regularity that we'd care to see: How was your nothing day? Which is often followed up with: You're nothing.
First of all, you can't take it seriously. She's two and-a-half. She doesn't mean to shred your delicate sense of self-worth, crush the paltry remnants of your flagging, fractured soul, utterly decimate the tiny vessel of hope filled with early-stage pride floating aimlessly through your rapidly deflating heart.
It is actually her version of teasing which I red-facedly admit she probably got from me. Okay, not "probably."
How was your nothing day?
You brush it off, of course, make eye contact with her and tell her in a firm voice that this is not a very nice thing to say. You tell her it's not nice to tease people, and that you did indeed have a something day -- that every day is a something day.
You're telling her an abject, bald-faced lie, of course. But you do it anyway because she is two and-a-half years old and you're the parent, godammit.
During recent days and weeks of this campaign, I've more than once considered having Emmy phone the Romney folks and ask them that question, if only to spur some serious internal conversation that is evidently not taking place within the campaign structure.
How was your nothing campaign?
Maybe I'll save it until Election Day.