Rockin’ the Vote

You should vote for me for President because I would do a fantastic job.

Right.  Who am I kidding?  I would make a terrible President.  When I read the sentence prompt out loud to my kids to see what they thought, my oldest son finished the sentence for me:  “You should vote for me for President because I have a tiny horse.”

“I don’t have a horse, tiny or otherwise,” I reminded him.

“Then you shouldn’t be President.”

“But Obama doesn’t have a horse.”

“There ya go, Mom.  There ya go.”  He gave me a knowing look and retreated into his video game.

So much for getting any input from him.  I refuse to write a blog post based on the premise that a tiny horse would make me a good President of the United States.  Possibly President of some organization that involves being cruel to helpless animals, as it would indeed be very cruel to put a large woman on a tiny horse.

chinco

Before I veer wildly off into a tangent about Chincoteague ponies and start making immature and totally inappropriate jokes about the word “Assateague,” I had better find my way back to the topic at hand.  But since I think we can all agree that I would make a terrible President of anything, I’m going to change it up a little.

You should not vote for me for President because I would do a terrible job, and here are six very good reasons why not.

1.  I could never balance the budget. Hell, I can’t even balance my checking account.  I think I paid more in bounced check fees last year than I paid in rent.

2.  I am a sucker for a sad story or some crocodile tears. It’s true; I work in a high school/middle school lunchroom, and I believe every ridiculous excuse as long as it’s given with a trembling lower lip or a pair of glistening eyes.   I can be tough as nails toward any kid who gives me attitude, but a sad little face can get away with murder.

Now, imagine me in the Oval Office.  “Now, Mr. Putin, I’ll let it go this time, but you really need to be more considerate of the people around you.  You just put your nuclear devices away and don’t bring them with you to America next time.  And here, take this cookie with you.”

3.  I am incapable of keeping my mouth shut. Secrets?  What secrets?  If it goes in my ears, it comes out my mouth, usually without spending any time rolling around in my brain first.   Just stop and think about all of the wonderful juicy tidbits of United States’ gallimaufry that would become common knowledge if I were President.

4.  I am the kind of person who uses the word “gallimaufry” in a sentence. And giggles about it.  That should preclude my holding any kind of political office.  Or having any kind of responsibility, really.

5.  I get that ADHD hyperfocus thing. Never heard of hyperfocus?  Oh, please, do let me explain.  People with ADHD aren’t always frenetic and scattered.  We only bounce off walls and ceilings some of the time.  At other times, we can have an almost superhuman ability to focus on one thing to the exclusion of absolutely everything else in the entire universe.   The trouble with this is that we have little to no ability to control exactly what we’re going to focus on at any given time.  I once spent forty-five minutes watching a Pringles can roll slowly back and forth across a cement courtyard in a gentle summer breeze.  It was boring as hell, and I had things I should have been doing instead, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.  If I did, I might have missed that can rolling in a new and unknown direction.  God forbid.

Here’s another example.  I remember sitting in the living room one day when I was ten or eleven years old, reading a book.  I can still see The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, and I remember that there was some kind of fuss going on in my house.  In retrospect, it was a rather panicky fuss, with a lot of shouting and running back and forth, and a lot of people who really didn’t belong there at the time if I had really stopped to think about it.  But I just couldn’t stop reading that book.

Not until the nice fireman pulled it out of my hands, informed me that the kitchen was on fire, and asked me rather impatiently if I would please wait outside while he and his men finished putting out the fire.

Hyperfocus.  I can just picture the rest of the White House staff awaiting my yay or nay regarding World War III while I hyperfocus the afternoon away wondering which way that tiny ball of sweat is going to go when it falls of the Secretary of Defense’s nose.

6.  I wouldn’t know what to call my husband – providing, of course, that I ever have one of those again. But hey, it’s a hypothetical question, so I can have a hypothetical husband if I want to.  And I’m thinking that my hypothetical First Man is going to be a handsome son of a bitch, with broad shoulders, a full head of hair, and eyes that are any color other than blue.  He’ll be a great kisser, of course, and he’ll have a definite preference for chunky middle-aged women.  He’ll have a great smile, and when he touches me I’ll . . .

I’m sorry, what was the question?

This post is part of Finish the Sentence Friday, in which writers and bloggers finish a sentence and “link up” their posts. This week’s sentence was “You should vote for me for President because…”  

For information on Finish the Sentence Friday,Join our Facebook page! 

(Gallimaufry:  a hodgepodge; jumble; confused medley.)

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8 thoughts on “Rockin’ the Vote

  1. Love your take. But some of your reason – well, I think many presidents have been guilty of the same (1,2 & 4). And you number three made me laugh out loud. For that – you have my vote!

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  2. Awesome end to this week’s sentence! Seriously awesome! I didn’t realize that when a person hyperfocuses that she’d actually not know that the kitchen was on fire. Yowza. Also now I want to go to Chincoteague and I also want a tiny horse. Not to ride or anything, but to keep in the yard to play with. That’w weird right? Maybe Putin would be nicer if people gave him cookies too. Just saying.

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    • I love Chinco ponies! I went camping there one year and missed the big Pony Swim by one week. One of my goals in life is to be there for that event at least once.

      Maybe I’ll make some cookies for Putin someday. Not sure how well they’d ship to Russia, though. 🙂

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  3. So the real answer is that if you can actually find a way to work the word “Gallimaufry” into a blog post, then you certainly have the right stuff to be President. At least people could learn something useful from your speeches. Which isn’t always the case with some politicians! 😉

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