Fighting the boogey man

I understand having to worry about the safety of my country. I don't enjoy it, but I understand the circumstances that brought us where we are. There are people all around the world in worse positions; people who can't give their children enough to eat. Right now, as my fat, lazy ass sits here typing, a child is suffering hunger pains and a parent is suffering from a broken heart for knowing it.

So trust me, we're not victims. Not in the large scope of things. Not in the grand scheme of the universe.

People who died in the towers, on those planes, and at the Pentagon were victims. Not us. Having to wait in line at the airport while passengers are screened before boarding the plane does not classify as a major life disappointment.

What does bother me is to hear children worrying about it. To hear a five-year-old ask his mom if he really has to go on the trip because he's afraid "the plane will fall." What does bother me is that our kids don't get to be kids anymore. That's a scary thing.

That's why we're losing the war on terrorism. Not because we can't control uprisings in Iraq. Not because we can't ensure that elections will run smoothly in Afghanistan. But because our children aren't safe and know it. Because our children want to be held extra-tight. The boogey man came out of the closet, and we have no clue how to get him back in there.