Like millions of non-Americans hooked on the US election, I’m backing someone even though I don’t have a vote. I love Cruz and I’m not ashamed to say it. I’m not talking about the oleaginous Ted, but Caroline, his seven-year-old daughter. Caroline is that rare thing in politics — an actual human being. Her eyes glaze over in campaign videos as she’s forced to deliver a succession of facile lines. She ruins coordinated photocalls by making bunny ears behind her dad’s head and refusing to hug him for the cameras. She slumps, listening to endless mind-numbing speeches at never-ending rallies, very obviously bored out of her mind.
She is the antithesis of Chelsea Clinton — so primped, every bit as ruthless as her mother. She shows up the older Trump children for the pawns they are. In her petulant apathy, Caroline is just like us, the people.
But the main reason I like Caroline is that I used to be her, on a much smaller stage.
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