When I woke up last week, I had a new president. New, but the same, and I have to be honest, I wasn’t all that thrilled. It’s because my Commander-in-Chief doesn’t like me. I know! I was surprised, too. But the last thing I heard him say to a gathering of his devoted before the big ballot-casting began was: “Don’t boo. Vote. It’s the best revenge.” Revenge? Against me? Seriously, I’m the enemy? Cool! So because I have this great blog—that I’m certain my POTUS follows—I wanted to introduce myself. For your own safety, shield your eyes. I’m a 115-pound, married, employed, law-abiding, novel-writing, suburb-living, mortgage-owing, vitamin-taking, tax-paying, retirement-planning, capitalist-thinking, fast walking, fast talking, church-going, online bill-paying, mom.
AKA public enemy #1.
Wait. It gets worse. I’m married to a small business owner—need I say more? Nope. That’s all it takes to qualify the hubs as public enemy #2. It doesn’t count that he works endless hours, or that I razz him because his take-home pay is roughly 78 cents an hour–truly, we are the undeserving rich. He works a lot of really, really long days—hand to foreheadoh my, but life is so unfair. Sidebar: We were going to join the Occupiers, until we heard bowel movements in public places were a requirement. Clearly, only the revenge-worthy such as ourselves would draw the line right there…in the poop. Besides, we had responsibilities here in small business hell. Not sure my president was aware, (what with his busy campaign and grueling hobnobbery with the super-cool hollywooders) but it’s been a tough road for us small business reprobates who can barely keep our worker-bees out of the unemployment line.
If you can stomach it, further nefariousness can be found in my four children. All are grown up and have drunk the Kool-Aid. They’re married with families of their own. (See!) None of them live in our basement—Darn! None of them has broken the law—What? Nobody’s headed anywhere they can legally embark on the path to designer drugs—eye roll. They’ve each obtained an education for the sole purpose of offending those not educated. They work hard, I’ll be honest, just to bug those who don’t. They are evil incarnate. We’ve done all we can, but they still insist on paying their dues and their taxes, and none of them are getting much sleep. Worse yet, each is conscientiously rearing the next generation. Ridiculous themes abound in their homes such as: be responsible, be responsible, be responsible, hold the door open for old people, say your prayers, and don’t call each other fart-heads. When they get a bit older—get ready for more mind-blowing enemy-of-the state stuff—sex will be discussed. Sex is the big silk-sheeted lie in the sky for kids anxious to grow up and be all they can be in 30 seconds or less. Who are we to object to a world echoing the “you-should-be-having-sex-right-now-and-not-thinking-about-the-consequences”diatribe. What could possibly go wrong with kids having sex when they should be learning to tie their shoes? Is there a grown-up anywhere in the room? Anywhere? Sit down, Sandra!
Oh my, I’ve stepped in it now. Well, it’s like I always say; you can’t be a good enemy-of-the-state without engaging in a few things just this subversive. But how else can I prove myself revenge-worthy? She sighs.
Oh gosh! Look at the time! I’m gonna miss the Jay Carney show. Is it just me, or is that guy freaking hilarious?