An obsession always begins with something small. His was very small and he was really, or at least it seemed so at the time, the only one who noticed it.
“There, right there, don’t you see it?” he would point and yell whenever he saw the man whom I revered.
I would look at it, then him, and say something like, “Please, stop. That’s not important. It’s just a beauty mark,” which statement would send my son into hysterics.
While I cried, yes I was one of those, over the glorious moment when Barack Obama became President of the United States, my son announced, “Obama and the Mole.” I ignored him for that moment and later proceeded to tell him all about everything he would miss if he only focused on the mole.
He did it anyway.
He tried to listen only to the speeches, but all he could think about was the mole. So, my sister took a different approach. My sister who prefers, much like my son, to laugh at everything rather than to take anything very seriously understood him much better than I did. She gave him a microphone, helped him with some lyrics, and made a short film.
So, here’s a three year old’s antidote to an unhealthy obsession.