Grandma Ruth’s Swordfight

I find myself explaining democracy to a lot of small children. A 6 year old boy enthusiastically asked me today if a presidential election involves a swordfight. I regrettfully informed him that it did not. I contemplated explaining the historical significance of Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton, but I didn’t want to get his hopes up.
He didn’t think voting sounded very exciting, so I told him that he might be able to punch his ballot with a sword. Any sentence that involves the word “punch” and “sword” tend to ignite interest in hyperactive-agressive 6 year old dudes.
I meet people from both ends of the age spectrum.
Ruth opened the front door, and said through the screened one “I don’t know what you’re selling, but boy, I’m buying. Look at your smile!”. It made me smile bigger, and blush.
She insisted that I must be the same age of her high school graduate grandson, but I informed that I had actually just graduated from college. She thought that I was a boy genius of no more than 18 years of age, like her grandson, and had simply breezed through college in an accelerated program. I had to tell her that I was, in fact, 22. I told her not to be fooled by the smile, and that I shaved that morning, which makes me look more pubescent.
She continued to talk, for nearly 30 mins. about her grandsons, and her knees, and her porch. Eventually, she stopped herself and said, “I guess none of this has anything to do with presidents and whatnot”. I told her that it was ok. Eventually she gave a contribution after I told her that the reason I came door to door was to bring politics back to the people and to make sure the government listens to people’s needs. If by “people’s needs” they mean “80 year old women’s physical therapy schedule”, then I feel like I’ve fulfilled my civic duty. I would have rather talked about swordfights though, to be honest.