Dude, Really Don't Fuck This Up

Well.

Historic times.

The kind of times when you can hear the turning of the wheel.


This morning, G/Son and I sent our guests off with choruses of "Na na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na, Batman!" Along with coffee, bagels, eggs with cheese, and orange juice. G/Son had a side of oatmeal.

When they left to go see President Obama, G/Son and I went downstairs and played Batman, complete with cape, for quite some time.

Then, we came upstairs and watched President Obama make his serious promise to G/Son, to me, and to everyone. We ate Obama cookies before hand and Obama cupcakes afterwards. Nonna cried and had to explain why, sometimes, crying is a way of saying that you are way too happy. G/Son said: "Don't cry, Nonna. I will listen to President Obama's serious promise. He will tell the truth to me."

After President Obama made his promise, Nonna went into her altar room to light some incense for him. G/Son came in and lit some incense, too, for the fox, and the raven, and the Potomac River. We said, "Here, Mr. Obama. May you have mental clarity." We went outside and beat on some pots and graters and said, "Yeah! Obama is president!" We played with the neighborhood cat, Smoke, and we slid around on the icy stream in front of Nonna's house, and we came inside and had soup and then we took a nap.

OK, Mr. Obama. Don't fuck this up.