Good Guy

During January 2009, I pretty much sat plopped in a tiny sitting room whilst heavily pregnant. I had a heater, a television and crisps. I was happy. Happier still because a few days before my first little boy was due to be born, I was watching the inauguration of the first Black American President, Barrack Obama. And as I patted my little boy (or girl, who knew) in my tummy, I knew it was all going to be ok. This Barrack Obama, well, he was good guy.
My son was born to a world where a good guy was in charge. Simplistic isn’t it? Pretty much. Like it or not, the position of American president is important world wide. It has ripples through the economies and societies of this planet.
My son is a clever, sensitive type. With such a lad, you have to keep pointing out the good guys, that’s how they think these young clever sensitive types and frequently, I would point him towards Mr. Obama because he is exactly what I think he needed to see. You have the sense with Barrack Obama, that it’s all going to be alright. He promotes grace as the way forward, of being exactly who you are and using that in order to make your own place in this planet. That’s what we want for our sons. That they be themselves because as Oscar Wilde puts it ‘everybody else is taken.’
He’s been ‘in charge’ while Philip learned to crawl unknowing that they was a good guy leading a world economy out of trouble.
And now he’s going, this good guy and the alternative not such a good guy is not someone I would promote in my family, not someone I’d like my beautiful sons to be. But there are always other heros, and maybe it’s time for a female role model around here. Just saying.
Thanks Mr. Obama for being the good guy and for letting us know it was all going to be alright.

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