When Hillary and Barrack Kiss and Make Up, the Place's the The Thing!

Oh, the symbolism of it all moves me to near tears.

Hillary and Obama, together in the town of Unity, embraced, showing forgiveness. All is well. Surely, because we see it on television, it must be true.

What is not known is that Unity was chosen after several other towns were struck from the list of possibilities wherein this historic meeting of the titans for peace could take place.

Hell for Certain, KY: It wasn’t frozen over so it got dumped pretty quick.

Desperation, Ohio: The McCain camp had booked it for a youth rally.

Defeated, TN: Hillary camp said no way.

Sour Grapes, MI: The Other Half of the Delegates threatened to show up and ruin the mood.

Hope, Ark: The citizens of this town have suffered enough.

Bullhead, AZ: The township’s monicker strikes a little close to the bone. Ditto for
Squabbletown, California, The X, Mass, and Truth or Consequences, New Mexico.

Still, Hillary urged her supporters to vote for Barrack and I for one, could feel the love. I mean, I’m sure she feels as much when she’s around Bill.

Obama for his part, acknowledged that maybe mentioning that he’d remodel the bowling alley to make a basketball court was a bit premature. After all, he does need to work on that game. He also promised never to mention Erkel again. It just brings out the heebie jeebies in voters everywhere.

He also explained that the mock presidential seal that had appeared in front of his podium, was the result of a vast right wing conspiracy designed to portray him as an aloof argula eating Harvard educated lawyer with only 2 years Senate experience who thinks there are 57 states. "Just remember," urged his supporters, "he’s unstoppable, he’s beautiful, he can do no wrong."

The happy couple has stops planned in the coming weeks at No Mirage, California, Utopia, Florida, Neverfail, Tennessee, and Allgood, Alabama.

Bill was sent on a separate good will tour. He plans on stopping in Lovely Ladies, New Jersey, and some other places that actually exist but this is just not that type of blog.

P.S. All these towns exist except for two.

Tune in next week when we discuss theme music. Just as the Clintons in 92 asked for a leap of faith with their song, "Don't Stop Believing," Obama currently is in search of a song that will convey the promise of perfection without getting nailed down on any pesky specifics.

Nominations for the theme song of the presidential campaign include "Don't Worry, Be Happy," "The Candy Man," and the Coca-cola theme from the 70's commercial, "I'd like to buy the world a coke." These express best, the DNC's current platform and policies for macroeconomics, universal health care and take on foreign policy matters and issues of homeland security.

Cold Potty Wars

USSR has always been impishly cute, linguistically gifted, naturally sunny and caffeinated .(She never sleeps) She also wants to prove she can go toe to toe with her next older brother. Her older brother USA has staunchly refused all attempts at becoming “a big boy.” More on principle I think.

“He doesn’t want to get his beautiful potty dirty.” was the given explanation. Reeducation camps on what the intended use is for a mini-potty had thus far proved useless, until yesterday.

USSR had finished her shower and sat unprompted on said potty. USA was outraged. “That’s my potty!” he stomped into the closet to suck his thumb and sulk. The little Russian noticed his reaction and proceeded to sing a little song about going to the potty and make little “sssss” sounds. “I’m going potty Yankee boy.” she said several times.

Meanwhile, Captain America humpfed in the closet.

I happened to have some M&M’s in the freezer which I joyfully procured for my daughter. The little member of the Communist block eagerly ate them from my hand and squirmed in her seat. Suddenly, this wasn’t a game. We had the By-George-She’s Got-it-Let’s-sing-the-Rain-in-Spain-Hallelujah-chorus moment of truth. America could not ignore the physical evidence. He had been beaten and she had a fist full of chocolate to show for it.

Any guilt I might have felt for ruining his self esteem evaporated when I remembered, he turns four in a few months.

The next day, USA announced a new policy, “I’m a big boy.” and ate at the table using silverware. He dressed himself. He helped clear the dishes. “Is there anything else I can do for you Mom?” he asked rather archly.

Then the Cossack finished her breakfast and announced she would go to sit on the potty. His face darkened and the thumb sucking started up again as he marched out of the room, I suspect to hash out a rapid response.

Russia had the handle on the situation, she relieved herself properly, asked for her M&M’s and spontaneously did an end zone celebration that would have warranted a penalty for sure in NFL playoff season.

USA knew how to fight back though, he ran upstairs and called down, “I made my bed for you Mom!” I praised his hard work. Little Russia’s face darkened. She ran upstairs. “Me too Mom.”

“You don’t have a bed, you have a crib.” America crowed.
“I made my sister’s bed Mom.” She responded.

Game on.

America rolled up his sleeves and went to work. He made his brother’s bed. He brushed his teeth. He put the cap on the toothpaste. I don’t even do that.

Russia also tried to win in the proliferation approach. She lacked the resources but not the political will. She tried to give the baby a bottle. She also brought me a book and told her brother in a gloatingly superior voice for a two year old, “Turn off the television. It’s bad for you.”

Watching two super power toddlers duke it out via good behavior, the UN puzzled over how this would or could end. Being the UN, I didn’t mind if their little conflict profited me on the side.

Annoyed at being preached to by the enemy, USA went to the garage and got me a diet coke. He thought he had the ace in the hole. So did I. Then USSR brought me the M&M’s. USSR cuddled up to me and USA took off my shoes to rub my feet. It’s good to be the UN.

Tensions were high and likely to result in a full scale incident when I asked if it was potty time. USA manned up and used the big potty. Russia used the little one. America finished first and both of them got plenty of praise and chocolate. End zone dances all around. Just when it seemed like glastnos had broken out, they recognized something about the UN.

“Hey Mom, we should go to McDonalds to celebrate.” USA suggested.
USSR appeared with my purse and keys. “Happy meals?” she said with an unbearably cute grin.

I am in serious trouble Mom wise. They’re colluding.


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