Secret Agent

Let's just say the kids weren't exactly stoked when they learned the TV was tuned to something boring yesterday morning instead of that thrill-a-minute show also known as the Backyardigans - and would remain that way for the entire day.

I had to explain, at least to the five year-old, that this was a day he probably wouldn't remember but was very, very important.

"Why?"

"Because we have a new president."

"Barack Obama is our new president?"

"That's right. It's very exciting."

"But who's going to be president after him?"

Let's just see how Obama does - hopefully for the next eight years. I then said that it was also a big moment because Obama is our first Black president, and that when Mommy was born, no one thought this would ever be possible.

"But Mommy, he's not black. He's brown."

"Well, yes. People come in all different colors. Barack's Mommy was white and his Daddy was black. Just like you and Daddy are part Asian and Mommy is white."

Now, as these words were coming out, I realized I was about to careen down a very slippery slope. The fact is I have mixed-race kids (throw in that they're also technically Jewish, and my children have a lot going on!). It's part of who he is. Out here in The OC, kids who are half or a quarter Asian are not unusual at all.

But maybe five is too young to talk about it.

I'm sure Sawyer has never for a second thought about this. Which is the way it should be. He doesn't think it's odd at all that his grandmother has an accent. Or that she sometimes speaks another language on her cell phone. He probably thinks every grandmother cooks bulgogi, right?

I guess I was trying (not very successfully) to explain 1) why Obama's presidency is such a big deal and 2) point out that it doesn't matter what color you are.

I think I entirely succeeded in confusing him. Because a couple hours after our discussion, he said "Mommy? What am I? Action? I'm part Action?"

"What? No, part Asian."

"Oooh. Like Secret Agent."

Exactly.