Prop 8

It’s a funny thing how people behave during election times.  Take our California elections a couple years ago when Prop 8 was the big issue!

We kept getting reminded that we live in the Republican/Conservative Orange County, with every house proudly displaying their “Yes on 8” signs.  But I continued to educate our kids about equality, and people’s rights to love and marry whomever they want.  It was bad enough that someone actually destroyed our “No on 8” sign, and took “Vote for Hillary” down, but nothing prepared me for one Saturday morning.

I was making breakfast in the kitchen, kids watching morning cartoons when someone rang the door bell.  I usually don’t open the door at 8:30 on a Saturday morning, but my little one beat me to it, so I didn’t have a choice but to go see who it was.  There were two ladies claiming to be my neighbors, and asking if they could give me a handout about Prop 8.  Before I could open my mouth, they took turns “educating” me and my kids on what I should be voting for.  Not only educating me, but insisting on voting for this awful measure.

Since they wouldn’t let me get a word in, I felt the blood rushing to my head, anger and sarcasm fighting its way into my brain, all at the same time.  I quickly thought of what I should and shouldn’t do, since my boys were standing right next to me.

On the one hand I thought, if I unleashed a fury on these poor, ignorant, and obviously bored out of their minds women (who else would wake up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning, unless they have infants, and walk door to door preaching their moronic and uneducated ideology to their “neighbors”?), my boys would be a little scared, and full of questions that I wasn’t sure I was prepared to answer.  On the other hand, if I just stood there and let them continue without letting them know how wrong they are, what kind of an example was I setting for my kids?

Now normally at this point, I would look at my husband as he gives me the: “Go for it, let the bitches have it” look, but he was still sound asleep upstairs.

So, when I saw a brief pause in their “I-hate-all-mankind, unless-they-are-just-like-me” speech, I decided to go for it.  Very politely, I handed their handout back to them at the same time explaining that we won’t be needing it.  I told them that we had our mind set on what we were going to vote come elections, as shown by our Decor outside, with our hand-made signs and kids-drawn plaques and thanked them for waking us up for this garbage.

I really thought that it was going to be the end of that conversation, but they had the chutzpah to ask me why?!?!

I wanted to yell out a lot of things, mainly words that my oldest was just starting to learn, and my youngest would never forget.  But I didn’t.  Simply, I proceeded to tell them that once my Lesbian partner woke up, we would love to have them come back at a more normal hour for coffee to discuss it…

No one has ever come to my house since.


One thought on “Prop 8

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