We in the Great White North had a federal election just recently. My vote actually counted for absolutely nothing, but I'm kind of getting used to that. The point is that we exercised our right, headed to the polls, and voted, just as we are supposed to. We took H's mom with us. She lives right nearby, so this should be easy. It's just voting, after all. Shouldn't take long.
H's mom is a bit disorganized these days. She misplaces things. Keys. Phone numbers. Her voter card. That sort of thing. Happens. I'm starting to relate to her more and more, actually.
The plan was that H would first pick J up from school, then pick up Mom, and then take her to vote. When she was done, he would drop her off, stop off at home to pick up me and N, and then we would return to the polls and take turns, one sitting in the van with the kids while the other voted.
As complicated as it sounds, there was a good reason for the multiple trips. H's mom has certain physical limitations, doesn't drive, and certainly can't weedle into the very back of the van and, with my broken knee still being a huge issue (I know: whine, whine, whine), neither could I. I also couldn't drive yet because of the aforesaid
All went according to plan until H picked up Mom and discovered she had misplaced her voter card. Undaunted, H took Mom to the polls and learned that, since she didn't know her riding (which was written on the card), she would have to wait in two line-ups: the first to obtain her riding, and the second to vote. Apparently, a lot of people head to the polls without the card. (Who knew?) The first was a long and slow moving line.
It was doubtful that H and I would both get to vote if he waited for her. So H decided to leave Mom in the first of her two line-ups while he returned home to pick me up. We live minutes from the poll. We'd work this all out.
We returned to the polling station. We would be quick, as we both had our voter cards and the lines for those who knew their riding were quite short. H parked as close to the doors as possible. I waited in the van with the kids while H went to vote. And when H returned, Mom was walking beside him. She was miffed, and I heard her crossly expressing herself and H's response of: "Well, it's not my fault!"
This was when we learned that our area of town actually has two polling stations. Having no idea that this would be the case, and without the appropriate voter card at hand, we couldn't possibly have realized that Mom was expected to vote at the other one. So H left me to vote while he drove Mom to the other station, waited for her to vote, and then took her home after. He then returned to our polling station to pick me up. Meanwhile, I voted and then sat on a bench to wait for him. (People were oddly reluctant to get up and let the woman with the crutches sit on that bench, but I guess that's a story for another time.)
All told, the outing actually took hours.
And after reading this ordeal, you can no doubt understand my frustration that my guy didn't get in. 'Cause after all of that, my vote should have counted for something. Right? Right!
Really, we had some pretty slim pickings in this last election. But I have learned my lesson. Next time, I will make my vote count. I will pick the best candidate available. Even if he is not officially on the ballot. I will campaign with might and main, and ultimately, I will vote Captain Dumbass for PM!
Actually, no. Make that Captain Dumbass for King! 'Cause we really should have a King, don't you think?
I think he'll get in.