I was delighted to babysit for my two grandsons, ages 6 and 8. And, on this particular evening, I was also excited to watch the first presidential debate. I had no idea how similar those two experiences would be…

The boys and I made the most of the early evening. They introduced me to the book, The Tickle Monster, and, of course, I couldn’t resist tickling them at all the appropriate times. I brought “snack supper”—our term for finger foods packed in a picnic basket. And the three of us concluded the evening by giggling uproariously at funny cat videos. And then….it was bedtime. Dun, dun, dun…

Both my guys are cooperative about going to bed, but…I made the foolish mistake of allowing them to sleep together in the top bunk. It was a cacophony of giggling, whispered secrets, and intermittent bickering. Typical kid fare, but, after thirty minutes of this, I had to lay down the law:

“Guys, you need to settle down, or I’ll have to separate you.”

And, after three such warnings, I did, indeed, have to initiate a separation. Here’s how it went down:

“It was his fault.”

“NO…it was his fault. He’s the one who wouldn’t keep quiet.”

“Yeah, but I only did that because you kept asking me to.”

“Uh-uh. I told you to stop, but you always distract me.”

In my best Judge Judy voice, I declared they were both at fault. Case closed. After they went to their separate bunks, I grabbed my Diet Coke, munchies, and laptop, ready to watch some must-see TV. Here’s how that went down:

“You were the worst president of all time.”

“No. YOU were the worst president of all time.”

“Everyone thought I did a great job.”

“Everyone thought you were a disaster.”

“You left me with a mess.”

“You left me with a bigger mess.”

It was an evening of undeniable parallels.