Knitiot Savant

Where were you?

I stood in the small speech therapy room of a Title I school in Aiken, South Carolina.  The t.v. had seen better days.  The picture was a little fuzzy and the sound fought with an odd buzzing that came from the speakers.  Snow swirled outside and the heater clicked off as he placed one hand on the historic bible and raised the other.  I held my breath.  His voice was clear, the oath was short and, when he finished, I wept.

Brushing aside my tears I dashed down the hall to grab my last two kids of the morning.  As we came in I grabbed the remote to mute the television. We settled into our seats at the table and one of the boys, both kindergartners, glanced at the television's screen.  He stared at it a moment then said, "Thank you, President Obama."

Thank you, indeed.

Don't let the door hit you....

For some reason, Big B felt compelled to watch President Bush's farewell press conference, or whatever the hell it was supposed to be, the other night. 

I was only half paying attention.  I mean really, as long as the man leaves I could give a shit what he has to say on the way out.  Lili watched patiently for a few minutes and then asked,

"What's he doing Mommy?"

"He's telling everyone goodbye, honey."

A ginormous grin spread across her face as she asked, "He's leaving?" 

"Yes, sweetie.  He won't be President anymore.  Barack Obama will be sworn in next week."

Lili watched the press conference a few minutes longer, still smiling, then turned and said, "So when is President Jackass gonna say good-bye already?"

I think I snorted tea.