Vote by Gary Paulsen

yourself for the day ahead.
    But how to slip a four-year-old under the radar? Hmmm … My gaze fell on the flour canister and I got a brainstorm.
    I texted Milania: “Meet me @ the flagpole B4 1st bell. Important.”
    I frisbeed Markie a toasted waffle and he sat in the middle of the table eating while I ran through a list of the day’s objectives. The most successful and inspiring politicians always have a plan.
    I grabbed Dad’s trench coat on our way out. Markie sang and hopped on one foot all the way to school. I made an alphabetized list of adjectives describing me:
astute, bold, cogent, dedicated, effective
. Or would
efficient
be more powerful?
    I spotted Milania when we got to school. Markie and I jogged up.
    “Hey, remember how I’m running for president because you asked me to?”
    “Yeah.” She looked down at Markie and frowned. Bummer; not a fan of little kids. Well, tough, we all have to sacrifice for the greater good. Milania could Markie-sit for a little while.
    “I need a favor in return.”
    “You’re not even elected yet.”
    “Details. It’s flour-baby week in home ec, right?”
    “Oh, yeah.” She dropped her backpack to the ground and a cloud of flour poufed out. She bent down, unzipped her bag and yanked out a ratty-looking sack. Some flour spilled out of one of the many rips and tears.
    “That baby has seen better days. What would you say if I told you I had the best flour baby ever and an idea guaranteed to get you an A in home ec?”
    “I’d say, I’m in. Let’s hear it.”
    “Dump the flour, take Markie.”
    “Markie’s the one peeing in the bushes?”
    “Yeah.” I pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer out of my bag, compliments of JonPaul, and tossed it at Markie, who dutifully used it. And then pulled up his cargo pants. “He won’t do that again,” I assured her before turning to Markie. “Don’t do that again.”
    He shrugged, unwilling to commit.
    “Here’s the thing: I’m in a child-care jam. I cantake him at lunch and my free period and probably even during social studies because I’ll explain to Mr. Crosby—somehow—that this is good for the campaign. Markie won’t be a problem in art because Mrs. Steck gets so excited at all the creativity in the room that she probably won’t notice Markie if I put a smock on him. And we have a sub in science, which means we’ll just do worksheets, so I can hide him behind one of the tall workstations. But I need help the other three periods.”
    “Yeah, all right, but how—”
    “You can hide out in the library. We’ll get you a pass from your home ec teacher. Say that you’re researching child development and need to observe and take notes and research the behavior he demonstrates. Passes practically write themselves when you explain you’re going above and beyond the call of duty. Then you and Markie can hang out in a study room.”
    “For three class periods?”
    “Intermittent periods. Plus, he has toys and snacks and a portable DVD player. You won’t even notice him. He practically raises himself. He’s a very low-maintenance child.”
    “Okay.” She looked skeptical, but I hustledher off to home ec to speak to Mrs. Nickerson before she could change her mind. Or Markie could pee again. When he wasn’t looking, I took the juice boxes and water bottles out of his panda backpack, just to be on the safe side.
    Lucky I’m such a sweet-talker. I got Milania’s home ec teacher all excited about Project Markie. I could tell by the gleam in Mrs. Nickerson’s eye that she was thinking about assigning toddlers instead of flour babies next year. Great politicians always point out the implied or inferred, or whatever, benefits to all parties in every situation. Because people can’t always spot the advantages without some help.
    Then I stashed Milania and Markie in the study room furthest from the librarian’s desk. Luckily, Markie likes sitting on the floor under a table—he pretends it’s a cave—so even if