It would have been easy to not think about it, and Bobby almost didn't-- his fingers were already twitching for the pen to sign, and an enthusiastic "Sure!" was on the tip of his tongue. But he lagged, words like 'ballot' and 'vote' troublesome to him, finding they rarely had a consistent weight to them, catching him up.
"Wait, um," he managed to mutter while his brain tried to sort through the politics of the proposition. Because that's what mattered, didn't it, him actually thinking about it. Not like all of those people who put their hands up to make mutants register. "What do you mean, the environment? I didn't know trees could get heart disease," he asked, his smile back now that he had caught up with himself.