A few nights ago, as I snuggled each of the kids before bedtime, I reminded them that they are always welcome with me to air grievances, express concerns, ask questions, tell me worries, etc. I told them that I (and their dad) am a safe place for them where they can come to solve problems. It seems like a good idea to to reassure them of those facts once in awhile, to tell them that I am open and willing to share in their troubles and to be a listening ear for them.
Michael listened to me as I told him this and then was quiet for a few minutes. Then he said, "So what's the deal with slaughterhouses?"
I admit I was thoroughly unprepared for that question, but I feel like I handled it the best I could.
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Me: Now, when you say "slaughterhouse," I'm not sure we're thinking of the same thing, Michael. There are some places that could be called that, because they do kill animals, but they do it for products, like meat.
Michael: No, I mean SLAUGHTERHOUSES, like where illegal immigrants just KILL animals.
Me: I'm not sure...
Michael: And you know the crazy thing? Barack Obama SUPPORTS those places.
Me: Michael, I'm pretty sure places where immigrants kill animals don't exist, and if they did, I am CERTAIN that President Obama is not a fan.
Michael: Hmpf.
Me: You know, animal rights seems like something you're really passionate about. Maybe that's something you could make a career of someday.
Michael: Mom, I'm not even FAMOUS. No one even knows I FEEL this way.
Me: Well, bud, you're only nine. Give yourself some time, maybe.
Michael: Like maybe I could be Martin Luther King Jr. for animals.
Me: Yeah, maybe you could. Martin Luther King Jr. wasn't fighting for racial equality when he was nine, though. He was a grown up. I am sure he FELT equal rights were important when he was young, but he didn't really change things until he was much older.
Michael: Okay. I could be Michael Byard Cox Jr.!
Me: Yes, yes you could.
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Some more immediate worries were then aired, but none that I couldn't take on after THAT.
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