The Dead Pile

My son Daniel was hard at work on his Valentine’s Day cards at the kitchen table.  He had a small box of Sponge Bob Square Pants related cards that he was furiously filling out with the names of the kids in his class.  As he would finish them, he would cross their names off the photocopied list and place them in one of the three neat piles in front of him.

Odd.  Three piles?  I asked Daniel about this.

“Well, the first pile is the boy pile,” he explained.  “For the boys in my class.  The next pile is the girl pile and the last one is the dead pile.”

I’m sorry.  Dead pile?

Daniel took the small pile of cards from the edge of the table.  “This one is for Andrew Jackson because he’s my favorite president.”  He shuffled through them a bit.  “This one is for Abraham Lincoln because he freed the slaves.”

It seems our presidents fret a lot over their legacy.  They’re concerned by the size of their library and what all it will contain (or not contain).  They say things they hope future historians will approve of.  I don’t think any of that matters near as much as a little kid remembering you a hundred or two hundred years after your administration and thinks you deserve to have Sponge Bob Square Pants wish you a happy Valentine’s Day.


One comment

  1. This assumes the president in question didn’t get all the kids killed in a stupid war… otherwise it’s hard to have anyone left to hand out valentines.

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