Barrack

My kids are bit obsessed with Barrack Obama. They get so so so excited to see his picture, whether it is on TV or in a magazine - there is just something about him.
Yesterday, Ethan and I read a story from the library about Abraham Lincoln and the train that carried his body back to Springfield. A bit sad but sweet story. At the end of the book, there was a map of the train's journey. We spent quite a while looking at it and talking about all the places on the map - most of which Ethan is familiar. The train started in DC (obviously) traveled to Baltimore then to Harrisburg and Philadelphia, went to New York City and eventually circled back to Springfield. I pointed out how close we are to NYC, where we will be visiting this weekend, and to the White House in DC. Ethan looked at me and then the map surprised. "We are that close to the president's house?!?" Of course, I said yes, and Ethan exclaimed, "Can we go there?! I want to see Barrack Obama!"
Then today Emily said, and I quote, "Bawack Obama my daddy. . . No, Bawack Obama president, not my daddy." Glad we cleared that up.