Tuesday, November 8, 2016

My Son, The President

An early morning call from the eldest:
"Hey, Mamba."
"Hi, honey."
"I just voted."
"Good for you, sweetie."
"I got there early. It was at a chapel. There was no wait."
"Coupla altacockers just sitting there, slowly taking names."
"I love when you say altacocker. Except when it applies to me."
"You're not an altacocker."
"Not yet. Give me a few years."
"I did my civic duty. I just wanted you to know."
"I've never been prouder. So, who'd you vote for?"
"I wrote myself in."
"For president?"
"I think I could run the country."
"It's a big job. You sure you can handle it?"
"@#$%, yes."
"Well, I wish you'd told me sooner. I would've made a few posters."

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