No matter that we really ought to leave Santorum’s kid alone.
You don’t want to see me looking like that, do you? I don’t even know if I can fit into my plaid pinafore anymore.
That was a reference to Rick Santorum’s 8-year old daughter crying at her father’s loss in the recent Congressional elections, for the noble cause of scoring votes in the “Kevin chooses which blogs he likes best anyway” 2006 Weblog Awards.
I don’t get it… when rightwing idiots called Chelsea Clinton unattractive, the left took offense. Now that the left has had a good showing, they suddenly feel it’s ok to drag children into the affairs of adults, to mock the child as an attack on the parent?
No, I don’t think so.
My wee Fiona thinks I’m the best daddy in the world. I happen to agree, but it’s entirely possible that (gasp) I’m a flawed human fully capable of making bad decisions, choosing the wrong path, and generally fucking up this or that.
I’d rather my daughter be allowed to figure that out without the rest of you mocking her for wanting the best for me.
Maybe before I was a parent I would have said such things as those directed toward Santorum’s daughter, but I hope not. Like I said though, I’m far from perfect (I’ve seen it on the map, but it’s on one side of the globe and I’m on the other).
People who are parents, and who love their children, – however – should know better.
Take the kid out of the picture.
Or at least tell me she’s cute.
Note: Maybe it was the beer – or maybe it was the high emotional drama of that Wilco documentary I was watching while enjoying said beer – but making fun of the kid, even in passing, just didn’t sit well with me. Still doesn’t, but maybe that’s because I went to sleep at 2:30am and woke up at 5:30am and, my oh my, what a long day ahead.
Anyway, I go to Pharyngula for the science, not so much for the politics, just like I go to Don Surber for the
wit insight consistency of thought …ummmm…. ok, bad example.