My granddaughter, (aged 7), said, “Grandad, do you want to see me pretending to be you?”
“Sure,” I said, preparing myself for an acute if probably disturbing insight into my personal behaviour.
She just went about her business.
I said, “When are you going to start?”
“I already have,” she replied. “I’m pretending to be you pretending to be me.”
Okay, I admit it, weirdness runs in my family.
But, by a torturous route that defies explanation, it got me to thinking about the state of our national politics. (It surprises me how much does these days. Perhaps it’s the endless obsessing; onshore-offshore-liar-Mr No-’tis a tax-’tisn’t a tax-nanya-na-nyana).
We’ve got Tony Abbott pretending to have a social conscience and handwringing over refugees’ wellbeing, while Julia Gillard pretends to care about big business while pretending not to care about the unions.
We’ve got the Greens pretending to have serious policies just like the big boys and girls.
Then there’s Bob Katter pretending he’s actually leader of a party and should be taken seriously. Okay, forget about that last part.
Tony Windsor’s pretending there’s room for rational thinking in Canberra, while Rob Oakshott’s pretending that somebody is actually listening to him.
As for Barnaby Joyce, he just pretends. Well, I hope he does because if what we see is the real BeeJay, then… No, it’s just too awful to contemplate.
And somewhere in all of this, there’s the Murdoch gang of tapdancers pretending do fair and balanced.
Last week we woke to hear Wayne Swan pretending that in assessing the world’s economies, he and the G20 Ministers were ”sober, realistic”.
Look Swanny, you can be realistic about the train wreck you lot are dealing with, or you can be sober. But you can’t be both.
Everybody is pretending to be somebody they’re not.
And then it dawned on me.
We’re being led by seven year olds.