Presidential knowledge

What I love most about my 10-year-old son is his confidence. In Mark's own opinion, he's an expert in just about anything important or interesting.

Like the President of the United States, for example. He had to write a short descriptive paragraph about someone or something, and he chose the President.

I knew it was going to be an awesome paragraph as soon as he started it.

"Hey Mom, how do you spell 'Barack Obama'?" he called out to me.

"Just like it sounds!" I yelled back.

I could hear him spelling it out loud. "B-A-R-A-K O-B-M-A," he said.

"There's a C in Barack," I told him. "And Obama is exactly like it sounds--O-ba-ma."

"That's what I said," he told me, voice dripping with condescension.

He started in on the second paragraph. "Barack Obama was the first African-American President," Mark read. "He's got a wife and two kids."

He paused for a moment, thinking. He then followed that up with, "Ummm...that's it, I guess."

"Two sentences is not a paragraph," I reminded him. "What else do you know about the President?"

"I don't know," Mark shrugged. "He owns the White House?"

I sighed. This was going to be a long discussion.

"He lives in the White House, he doesn't own it," I explained. "You don't know anything else about Obama? Come on, you went to his inauguration, you've gotta know something!"

Mark shrugged.

"One more sentence," I ordered. "Where's he from?"

"I dunno."

"I'll give you a hint: He was a Senator from a state you have friends in."

Mark lit up. "Oh, Maine!" he answered.

"No!"

"Arizona?"

I shook my head.

"Florida?" he asked, hopefully.

"Try again."

He thought long and hard, then asked, "Big Bear?"

"No, the President is not from Big Bear!" I said, stifling a giggle.

"I give up," he said. "I don't have any other friends anywhere."

"Yes, you do," I chided him.

"Oh!" he said suddenly. He started writing furiously, then looked up with a smile. I was glad he'd finally thought of our friends the Brunks in Illinois.

"'Obama lives in the White House in D.C.' Done!" he said.

I sighed. "I thought you were gonna write where he was from," I said.

"I don't know where he's from," Mark said. He closed his notebook, and said, "You said one more sentence, so I'm done."

I wonder if this is the same process other Presidential biographers follow when they write.