I went to vote today at the Hermitage Library. First, I must say that I was a bit bothered that the woman who greeted me at the entrance to the room handed me an “I Voted” sticker. I hadn’t voted yet! What if I tripped and slammed my head into a table and had to be rushed unconscious to the hospital? Or, what if I had an intense panic attack as I realized the brevity of the decision I was about to make and I decided to flee the room and return when my mind was more resolute? It was quite preemptive of her to hand me that sticker. Not wanting to promote false advertising, I kept the sticker on the edge of my fingertip until I cast my ballot. Then, and only then, did I boldy place my sticker on the front of my shirt.

There is more to this sticker saga. The same woman who gave me my sticker also handed one to Catherine. My daughter will not be eligible to vote for another 16 1/2 years. I do not want my neighbors accusing me of voter fraud when they see Catherine with that sticker plastered to her onesie. But, Catherine was having great fun sticking the patriotic accessory to her hair and then ripping it off so I didn’t deny her the joy.  (I try to limit my denial of her joy to three times a day, and I was already up to two.  With five hours until her bedtime, I wanted to keep one act of denial in reserve.)

As we exited the library, I noticed that Catherine no longer had her sticker. I assumed it had fallen on the floor at some point, but allowed myself to absorb my guilt for littering and continued on towards the parking lot. It was not until Nathan got home several hours later and said, “Why do you have an “I Voted” sticker on your ___?” (please insert whichever word you believe my husband used to indicate the body part on which I sit), that I realized the fate of my daughter’s sticker. My guess is that the sticker ended up on my backside during the fluid motion that occurs when she has her arms wrapped around my leg and I reach down to pick her up.

I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that Catherine and I played at the park next to the library for nearly an hour after I voted. I’m so glad the other parents and kids were witness to my butt sticker. Really, though, perhaps it’s not such an inappropriate placement considering some of the choices we had in this election.