Little Bip went to a specialist’s office yesterday. Despite hours of waiting and miserable testing, he was a champ. The results of the test were a relief. An issue with potential long-lasting impact is clearing up and he should be fine in the end.

The doctor, a middle aged man, told us to return in two weeks for a follow-up appointment. We asked about going to an office closer to home. He replied that the doctor who staffed that office was on maternity leave, so we’d have to make the longer trek. Then, for no apparent reason, he relayed that he had an earlier partner who had labor induced on a Friday, then was back at work on Monday.

Summing it up, he flatly said, “But they just don’t make them like they used to.”

I looked at Lisa with wide eyes. As we were stepping up to the desk to schedule the appointment I whispered, “I wasn’t going to mention that I’m on paternity leave for a month.”

I have to assume that the good teachers at kindergarten played some role in this little pre-algebra lecture from the lad:

This is very strong. It is twice as strong as you are. I’m using you as a kind of symbol for how strong something can be, and then I’m saying that this is twice as strong as that.

I’m really good at estimating. Did I ever tell you that?

This was the conversation as he was getting ready for bed this evening:

Lad: I think that George Bush was worrying way too much about Iraq. That was his big mistake. It’s like he wanted to start a war. He should have worried about other things, and not started another war.
Dad: Wow, that’s a  serious thought.
[Beat.]
Lad: But now, I want to know who started the Vietnam War and why they did that.

It’s a little hard to get your message out with Ferraro ranting and Spitzer folding, but Obama had a good event today in which he received the endorsement from a lineup of retired flag officers from the Army, Navy, and Air Force. It was a good counter to the insinuations from the Clinton campaign in recent weeks that Obama fails to meet some vague threshold of Commander-in-Chiefness.

Since it’s drowned out by the other news of the day, I’m posting the link to the Obama news conference to help give it a tiny bit of play.

Best line of the speech:

After years of being told that Democrats have to talk, act and vote like John McCain to pass some Commander-in-Chief test, how many times do we have to learn that tough talk is not a substitute for sound judgment?

I’ll also note that in addition to the support of these retired generals and admirals, Obama has the enthusiastic support of two of my favorite fighting Dems–Bryan Lentz and Patrick Murphy.

I think that the question of judgment is a credible one for Obama to raise. Of course, past performance is not a perfect indicator of future success, but clear thinking about Iraq in the runup to the war seems like a good test.

My ears pricked up at a new wrinkle in Clinton’s explanation as to why she voted for the authorization of force:

Knowing that he was a megalomaniac, knowing he would not want to compete for attention with Osama bin Laden, there were legitimate concerns about what he might do.

So I think I made a reasoned judgment.

I’ve always been bothered by Clinton’s assertion that the intentions of Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld were concealed and unknowable. But okay, screw me once….

And I’ll concede that nearly everybody in government seemed to believe that Saddam probably–if not certainly–had a stockpile of some weapons of mass destruction.

But having WMD is different from using WMD. Hussein had control over the Iraqi state. Using WMD outside of his borders would cause an immediate and swift, unified response from the world to strip him of his power. Clinton justifies her vote by saying that she thought that Hussein would be jealous of all the attention that Osama bin Laden was getting? A ridiculous bit of amateur psychological profiling is a centerpiece of your “reasoned judgment” to authorize the war?

In my book, that’s either being governed by unreasonable fear, or being tragically overconfident in your ability to personally read the intentions of faraway dictators.

No this isn’t a post about eliminating student loans at wealthy colleges and universities. (I have some thoughts about that, but maybe another day.) Nor is this a post about 529’s and other investment vehicles.

This is a post about our son, who at six, is already thinking about college. While some social-climbing parents might like having a child who thinks about college while he’s in kindergarten, I feel awkward about it. I try to tell myself that it’s a natural byproduct of having a daddy who works in higher education. Rationalization, perhaps?

On his birthday, his great-grandmother presented him with a U.S. savings bond. He came running into the kitchen, “Mommy, look what Grandnana gave me! Now I can go to college!”

Today, the topic came up again.

Dad: You know who owes you that money? The United States government! [Big smile…likes that thought.] Your grandnana loaned some money to the United States, and she told them to give the money to you when it’s time to pay it back. Cool, huh?
Lad: How much is it worth?
Mom: Fifty dollars.
Lad: Is that enough to go to college?
Dad: Nope, it costs more than that.
Lad: How do I get a–you kn0w–appointment in college? Like to let me in.
Dad: You mean accepted? You apply to the college you want to go to.
Lad: What if they don’t accept my application?

That he could even form the question–a little heartbreaking, isn’t it? How does a kid this age even know about selectivity?

Dad: Then you apply to another school that you like.
Lad: And what if they don’t accept my application?
Dad: You just keep on applying. Trust me, lovey, some college is going to REALLY want you to come to their school. You’ll find the right one when the time comes.

In a similar vein of parental worry about pressure on kids, I share a horrifying picture with you. This was taken at the local elementary school’s Scholastic book fair a couple months ago:

On the way to catch a basketball game together–see, I expose him to normal things–the lad explained to me how he sizes up the current election field and his own future in politics:

I don’t know who to vote for. You just need to vote for whoever will STOP THE WAR. I want to know who will bring all of those soldiers home. Maybe someday I’ll be president, and I will stop the war…some war that is going on. That’s what a president should do.

An hour later, at halftime, he added:

I also want to be a basketball referee, and maybe an editor. Plus being president.

I wouldn’t put it past him.