"Mama?" he asks me with his head cocked to one side and that very pensive look in his eye.
"Yes, pop?"
"Saia says Barack Obama is going to be the first black president."
"Uh-huh," I say, stirring the broccoli soup.
"But he's not black," he says.
"Of course he is, son," I say, "You've seen him on T.V.," wondering if we were about to get into a genealogical discussion about Obama's family lines.
"No, mom," he argues, "He's just Obama, the 44th President of the United States."
And in one fell swoop, black truly became the absence of all color.
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