Dear Dears,
We don't always know ahead what is going to be a big day to remember. My brother, for instance, blew off going to Woodstock with a friend -- not knowing it would be one of the defining events of his generation. I'm sure whatever he did instead is long forgotten and was probably stupid and he has been kicking himself ever since.
Luckily this time we know exactly when history is going to be made, so we won't have to live a life of deep regret like my poor brother.
But as incredibly cool as it will feel to vote on Nov. 8th, this one isn't just for us. It's also about kids like my brother once was -- too young or too dumb to get it. So, it's our job to take their tiny asses to Woodstock.
Bring your wee niece to the polls, your grand-daughter, neighbor kid, god-daughter, the kid you baby-sit, or the kid who babysits your kid. Let her pull the lever and vote for the FIRST WOMAN PRESIDENT!
And if she's too young to remember... you can remind her relentlessly for the rest of your life.
(Dads, gramps, uncles, pals, of course this goes for you, too. And yes, of course, take the boy kids as well. But, ya know, this one's a Woodstock of a girl thing.)
You were probably already planning to bring a kid, and are rolling your eyes at me, but still -- thanks for listening.
xo Amy
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