Incite Communism

I walked into the living room. G Frenzy asked if we could go to China.

We sure can. Why? I asked.

Because they have dinosaurs over there and we can look for them.

I noticed - just passed his small frame which was hovered over the brown faux leather ottoman in an awkward, contorted position that caused my vertebrae to pulsate in pain just looking at it - that one of his favorite PBS shows, "Dinosaur Train," was on the TV. He was on his ninth hour of cartoon viewing because we have a second kid now, a 1-year-old, who is more important and requires more attention.

He was watching a show about, naturally, dinosaurs and was inspired to inquire with me if we could go to China. How inquisitive of him, I thought.

Sure we can go to China and look for some dinosaurs.

He smiled.

What will we pack? I asked.

Duh, Dad, he replied, I will bring my Toy Story back pack, my Zoid action figures, some cheese goldfish and puppy (puppy is stuffed, not real, one I could cram in my back pocket to lessen our transport load).

Oh, perfect, son.

Hey, little buddy, I just thought of something cool!

He lit up. What? What? he asked.

Well, I'll see if we can have a green tea with President Hu Jintao and discuss why the yuan is set so low, making Chinese goods so cheap and causing the U.S. to be China's financial whore.

And another thing! I exclaimed. Why don't we invite finance minister Xie Xuren on a day trip to the Lama Temple and see if we can get the United States' $1.16 trillion in debt erased?

Do you have your passport? I bet Mommy didn't take you to get your passport, did she?

You know, I continued, that party, um, communism, does have its upsides: there is free health care and education; people with a low income have little taxes; everyone is equal. We wouldn't get to outright own our own home or car or independence but all of that stuff is overrated. Having a Sugar Country (Daddy) is in many ways appealing.

It might work for us, boy.

I thought I would hold back a long winded diatribe about the Chinese eating dogs, for he would either cry at the idea of his stuffed puppy getting devoured or sprinkle it with hot sauce later than night and shove it in his gullet. That would be cruel of me as a parent and raise a topic about which he won't understand. Dogs as food. C'mon. Just plain mean.

He looked at me, perplexed.

Daddy, can I have a yogurt stick? he asked.

Yes, you may.

He got up from the floor and happily trotted to the kitchen to get his fifth yogurt stick that morning because he lives off of them and we have a 1-year old who eats like a horse and it is more important at his tender young age that he get the bulk of the protein and greens in the house.

Instantly, I went online to price trips to Beijing. Gosh, my little world explorer. So proud of him.