Keep Your Paws OFF My Kid

by John Ettorre

The ketchup heiress opened quite a can of worms, I’d say.

Let me set the scene for you. It was the morning after Democratic presidential hopeful John Kerry chose a running mate, the telegenic John Edwards. Kerry has a couple of jet-setting adult daughters who could well prove to be a political embarrassment, at least in the red states. They have been photographed by the paparazzi while seemingly enjoying the lux life, in one memorable case while scandalously clad at the Cannes Film Fest. By contrast, Edwards, who tragically lost one older child in an accident, still has small children, which he cagily employs as political props to his electoral advantage.

There’s a memorable photo from the primaries in which Edwards is disembarking from a plane onto the tarmac, with his children in tow. Later, I noticed that for the first few hours after he was tapped as Kerry’s running mate, Edwards remained secluded in the family’s Georgetown brownstone, while a gaggle of press hounds set up vigil outside. If those two photo-op events weren’t consciously staged to evoke echoes of JFK, his precious little kids and his Georgetown row house, well, I’ll eat my hammock.

Anyway, on this all-important first day of official Democratic-ticket togetherness, the Kerry and Edwards clans gathered at Teresa Heinz Kerry’s sprawling Pittsburgh mansion for their first group lovefest. As family members were being lined up in preparation for a thousand whirring clicks from the assembled photographers’ auto shutters, it happened: the arm tug seen ‘round the world.

Little four-year-old Jack Edwards, cute as a button, seemed mostly oblivious to the mob scene unfolding all around him. Instead, he was adorably sucking his thumb, as four-year-olds are sometimes wont to do. But Teresa, heir to her first husband’s millions, wasn’t having any of it. The would-be First Lady had earlier been quoted in the press showering admiration on her new sidekick, the pretty, plus-sized Elizabeth Edwards, calling her an "Earth Mother." It didn’t sound much like a compliment, at least not coming from a flamboyant Chanel-bedecked millionaire born in Mozambique and fluent in five languages.

The ketchup heiress’s hair was whipping in the wind a bit that day, but she wasn’t worried about that. Instead, she was focused on what she apparently considered to be a toddler’s worrisome faux pas. And as a woman of action and means, she simply decided to take it upon herself to reach over, past the beaming Edwards parents, and pull the little moppet’s arm, prying his thumb from his mouth so as not to ruin this Kodak moment.

Well, it seems to have backfired a bit. Her odd bit of brazenness instead became the focus of attention, with the moment of maximum awkwardness frozen forever in infamy, making the front page of papers around the world. The obvious subtext: this was going to be one hell of a difficult marriage between these two very different families. As a rehearsal for the job of First Lady of the United States, which has no real qualifications but one, grace under pressure, I’d say it was a major mistake.

Ordinarily, I’m all in favor of flamboyant, well-educated internationalists of all sorts. But there’s something about that small incident that seemed especially telling, even unsettling. Who wants to put up with four years – or perish the thought, eight – of watching such a batty control freak like her occupying the country’s auxiliary bully pulpit? Presented with the same situation in the same photo op, I’m guessing that the far more decorous incumbent, Laura Bush, would have beamed at little Jack while lovingly tussling the kid’s hair. She wouldn’t have tried to wrestle his thumb to the ground so that the Secret Service could immobilize the offending digit.

But let me speak as a parent rather than as a voter. I’m trying to imagine my reaction if some adult in a parallel situation decided to take it upon herself to do that to one of my kids, literally grabbing their person in order to alter some minor behavior they didn’t like. And all while I’m standing right next to them.

You’ll just have to believe me when I say I’m not a violent guy. But I think I’d make an exception in that case. If I were John Edwards, I’d have kept my smile and my hair perfectly in place. But I also just might have felt duty bound to give that rich ninny heiress a good kick in the shins. Afterwards, in private, I might have told her that if she ever chose to touch my kid like that again, I’d give her a couple more fresh ones where that came from, election or no election.

After all, it might take a village to raise a child, as another First Lady famously put it. But even the village idiot knows enough to keep her paws to herself when correcting the neighbor’s kid.

John Ettorre is a Cleveland-based writer and editor who has also worked in Washington, D.C. and Chicago. Over a 20-year career, his writing has appeared in more than 70 publications, including the New York Times. His online weblog, Working With Words, can be found at www.workingwithwords.blogspot.com. To reach John, send e-mail to: jettorre@voyager.net or leave a message at (440) 708-2994.