I’ve read too many conflicting analyses of the last presidential debate so I’m here to set the record straight by telling you what I experienced.
It had been a long day so I was worn to the bone and feeling loopy. Plus, for no particular reason we were keeping track of a trio of ‘as yet undeveloped proto-adults’ (otherwise known as ‘children’). We ate dinner at a nearly deserted pizza joint with two TVs. One TV played football (this is required by law). It was on mute and being ignored. I considered asking for the remote so I could switch to the cartoon network. Maybe Phineas and Ferb would be on. (I suppose the kids would like this too but the cartoon idea was all about me.)
Mrs. Curmudgeon pointed to the other TV. It was playing the “pre-game warmup” to the presidential debate. It was too far away to hear and I couldn’t see well either. Perfect! All I could recognize was a big red stage and Michelle Obama looking very angry. I don’t know why I mention that because Mrs. Obama always looks angry.
The stage reminded me of a boxing ring. I started singing “Two Tribes” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. “Hey, Mrs. Curmudgeon, remember that music video where Reagan body slammed Gorbachev in a boxing ring?”
“Shhh…” She was trying to listen. The kids, meanwhile, were occupied with crayons.
The waitress brought ice water and I popped an aspirin for my tired muscles.
“Headache?” the waitress asked.
“Imploded spleen.” I responded.
She paused; deep in thought. “I practice martial arts.” I added. That should clear things up.
The waitress brightened. “Kickboxing?” She was a fan. Oh no. I hate kickboxing. I had to defuse the situation by referring to something as far removed from it as possible.
The waitress smiled and left. I would remember to give her a big tip. She was gifted in the art of ignoring morons. Mrs. Curmudgeon, God bless her, sighed in resignation at being married to one.
Meanwhile the kids sprang into action. “That’s her!” One pointed at Michelle Obama on the TV. Michelle looked like she’d enjoy snapping a puppy in half.
I hate to see kids get involved in politics. They’ll have a whole lifetime to learn that adults are lying weasels; no need to speed the process. Also they’ve been hopelessly brainwashed by public schools. “I suspect the kids are Obama fans… that pleases their overlords at the school administration.” I stage whispered. An already frustrated Mrs. Curmudgeon tuned me out.
The kids were jabbering excitedly and pointing at the screen. I watched them with a sinking feeling. The poor bastards were getting communism lessons every day in school. When they were older they’d get the bill for the solid gold iron lung every baby boomer wants. Then the cold hard truth would settle on their shoulders. They will eventually wish they’d been born somewhere with a brighter economy; like Bulgaria.
“She took our dessert!” One of the kids shouted; clearly enraged.
What an interesting surprise. I knew about the Michele Obama’s “Eat Healthy Food Because You’re A Serf Who Shall Obey Me” school lunch program. I hadn’t considered its effect on innocent kids. Talk about unexpected consequences. Now the kids loathed all things Obama. How much leftist indoctrination had been squandered just to seize a kid’s dessert?
“I hate her.” Shouted one of the kids. It was a teachable moment! Time to seize the day!