Where I really let my freak flag fly is when I get emotional about things you wouldn't expect. Like bad tv shows, reading obituaries of people I've never met, reading certain children's books, and voting.
Today, when I vote, I will leave with a huge lump in my throat. And my son will roll his eyes.
I don't know what it is exactly that moves me about the act of voting. I think it's somewhere along the lines of getting choked up during The Star Spangled Banner. This pure act of patriotism, this privilege that we are entrusted with, something about it speaks to my inner sensory meter and it pushes my Verklempt: Yes, Please button.
I read about citizens of countries who aren't part of the democratic process, who would, quite literally, die for the right to vote and I get choked up.
I see veterans wearing hats emblazoned with the name of the naval destroyer on which they served, heading into the polls, and I get choked up.
Just the other day I read an article about a local man who recently attained citizenship and was thrilled to have the opportunity to vote in his first election. I got choked up.
So it only makes sense that when I head into the polls today with my two children, to cast my vote in (cliched but true), the most important election of my lifetime, I will feel the familiar tightness come over me and when the Registrar hands me the ballot, I'll only be able to nod my thanks instead of speaking it. I'm so honored to have a voice in choosing our next leader, that even if my candidate doesn't win (please oh please oh please) I will still be left with the sense that I participated in greatness, along with millions of other privileged individuals.
(And a sticker. I'll also be left with a sticker. Which I will wear all day even if I have to duct tape it to my pajamas tonight.
So vote early and often. And I'll see you at the polls--I'll be the one clutching the box of Kleenex.edited to add: Forget the sticker, I want one of Holly's homemade cupcakes!