“I don’t get why you refuse to talk about him.”
He waved a dismissive hand. My dad never understood politics.
“He’s dangerous,” I went on. “If he wins the election—the consequences!”
Dad’s eyes were closed, feigning sleep.
“Our country’s reputation, its founding principles! Forgotten! Ruined!”
Finally one eye opened. “Be honest, kid. You think there’s a chance in ten million hells he can win?”
I considered. “No, if I’m honest.”
“Alright then. If you plan on forgetting someone, don’t keep yammering on about them. It’s counterproductive. Understand?”
I found myself nodding slowly. Maybe dad knew politics better than I thought.