Conspiracy and chicanery had tainted the election from the git-go. What was supposed to have been an exercise in the democratic process quickly evolved into an exhibition of corruption and baldfaced vulgarity. One campaign's bribery provoked the other's smear tactics. Both candidates far exceeded the boundaries of propriety.               

     Finally, the votes were cast and counted, and this afternoon candidates Margaret O'Shaughnessy and Skipper Tugs stood at the front of their kindergarten classroom, all smiles and victory signs, awaiting the announcement. Mrs. Perry, their kindergarten teacher, solemnly opened the envelope.

     "And the winner is," began Mrs. Perry, "Margaret O'Shaughnessy!" 

      Seven-year-old Skipper Tugs (who had been held back two years for behavioral issues) immediately blurted out his concession speech. "That's a bunch of bullshit!"

     While Margaret's supporters gathered around her to fawn, congratulate, and ask for favors, Skipper's supporters were quick to pick up a chant: "No way! No way! No way!"

     In Mrs. Perry's many years of teaching kindergarten, she had never witnessed such an ugly campaign for class president. And now this vociferous challenge to the results startled her and unsettled her patriotic heart. For a moment she stood stunned in the raucous dissent but quickly collected her wits and instructed all students to return to their seats, including Margaret and Skipper.

     "We will have a public recount," she told them. "But after recess." 

     Mrs. Perry watched her kindergarteners file out the classroom, pushing and shoving and practicing their new vocabulary word: bullshit.

 

The presidency of Mrs. Perry's kindergarten class was no small office. It came with responsibilities, prestige, and extraordinary power. For example, the kindergarten president carried the classroom flag to school assemblies, appointed eraser cleaners, handed out crayons, and monitored the classroom when Mrs. Perry went to the lavatory. To gain such clout had become the driving ambition of young Margaret and Skipper, and they had not pulled any punches.

     When campaigning began two weeks ago, Margaret had promised longer nap times, single lines at the drinking fountain, a poetry contest, and a new electric crayon sharpener. Skipper, who wanted those perks, too, realized to win he'd have to be audacious, guaranteed two hours of cartoons every day, boxing lessons, banning books without boy protagonists, and arranging desks by gender, ethnicity, and religion. Being kindergartners, most of the class preferred Margaret's promises and gathered around her. Meanwhile, Skipper's scruffy pals huddled in his corner. 

     "Don't worry," Skipper told them. "We'll win. I have some plans."

     When Margaret passed out Hershey's kisses the next day, Skipper handed out nickels. Margaret used her allowance to purchase Hello Kitty stickers for the class; Skipper offered illegal firecrackers purloined from his older brother's dresser. On anonymous tips, Mrs. Perry found a cigarette in Margaret's desk; she found a condom in Skipper's. Notes appeared on Mrs. Perry's desk, accusing candidates of saying "poop" and "pee"—even "damn"—on the playground. 

     From there, hostilities escalated. Rumors spread. Margaret had cooties. Skipper slept with his teddy bear. Margaret wet the bed. Skipper pulled wings off butterflies. Margaret ate her boogers. Skipper never wiped his butt. And so on and so on and so forth. 

     On election morning, Margaret's supporters had taped 8x10 glossy photos of their candidate to the walls of their classroom. Returning from morning recess, the kindergartners saw someone (or somebodies) had used crayons to retouch Margaret's photos with mustaches and devil's horns. No one was surprised, therefore, to see an effigy of Skipper hanging by the neck in the school cafeteria at lunch.

     

Chagrined by her failed lesson in civics, Mrs. Perry devised a lesson in math while the children were on the playground. Returning from recess, the kindergartners—one with a bloody nose, another missing a shoe—took their seats. 

     "Class," spoke Mrs. Perry, "we are going to practice our numbers. Will candidates Margaret and Skipper please come up and stand at opposite ends of the white board and write your names?" 

     Mrs. Perry then opened the ballot box and dumped the slips of paper on her desk. "When I read your name, put a check mark next to it." 

     Mrs. Perry read the first five ballots. Margaret had three checks and Skipper two. 

     "Okay, class. How many checks under Margaret's name?

     "Three," chimed the class in unison.

     "And under Skipper's name?"

     "Two!"

     And so it went, five ballots at a time, until all 28 ballots had been counted, 19 for Margaret and 9 for Skipper. 

     "So, who has more votes?"

     "Margaret!" yelled Margaret's supporters.

     "Skipper," shouted Skipper's.

     Mrs. Perry realized that her math lesson, just like her civics lesson, was failing. She pointed to Jack, one of Skipper's staunchest allies.

     "Jack, Margaret has 10 more checks than Skipper. So why do you say Skipper is the winner?" 

     "Because he's a boy, Mrs. Perry."

     Closer to a nervous breakdown than she had ever been, Mrs. Perry quickly said that she had to go to the lavatory and left the room. While one of the most vigorous spitball fights waged in her absence, Mrs. Perry stood in Principal Arnold's office, in tears, explaining what had happened in her kindergarten class. When she returned, Mr. Arnold accompanied her. 

     "Apparently," Mr. Arnold began, strolling between the rows of desks and slapping a metal ruler against the palm of his hand, "you children don't understand democracy. So I'll explain it simply. Democracy is voting for the peers you want to be your leaders, and the person with the most votes wins the election. That should not be too much for you to appreciate, but it seems it is."

     Here Mr. Arnold stopped and glowered, scolding with his eyes.

     "Therefore, in the future there will be no more elections. Your class will not have a president. Instead, Mrs. Perry will assign all duties. Is that clear?"

     The kindergartners whispered as one, "Yes, sir."

     Leaving the classroom, Mr. Arnold suddenly turned to the subdued children. "Will the two candidates stand up, please?" 

     Margaret and Skipper slowly rose. 

     "May I ask you two how you learned about democracy and the electoral process? How you inherited this unfortunate attitude?"

     For the first time since the campaign had begun, both kindergartners agreed on something. They answered as one, "From our parents."