Sunday, September 26, 2010
White House Baby Speaks
I know it's been a while since I posted, and I still owe the second half of our voyage to our new house. Sorry. It's been a tough couple months, and I just haven't found much time to get to writing, what with all the sleeping, pooping and nursing I have to do. It's an exhausting schedule.
Anyway, this weekend Opa came to visit me. It was pretty exciting to meet him. I mean, aside from having a beard, which I find absolutely fascinating, he also has less hair than I do! Let me tell you, it's a relief to know that there's someone in this family who's losing a lot of heat due to inadequate head covering. Also, I discovered that we have the same head, which was a pretty cool discovery.
Yesterday was too hot to really do much, so we mostly hung out at the house. But today... Today Dad had big plans for us. I guess the guy who introduced Mom and Dad works at the White House now, and Dad wanted to show off. So we went on a tour. I was a little skeptical, to be honest. But I can't really vocalize coherently yet, so off we went. It was me, Mom, Dad, Miles, Opa and Rita. That's Miles' grandma. We took a train. When we got to the White House, we had to go through 2 guard gates. I figured the Secret Service would definitely figure out that something was amiss, but apparently my family is cleaner than I thought. That or they hide it better than I gave them credit for. Once we got inside the first guard gate, my folks' "friend" showed up. Turns out his name is Blake, too. Apparently people named Blake don't get to keep their hair. Who knew? Anyway, off we went for our big tour.
It didn't take long until a Secret Service guard waved for us to stop. "Finally," I thought. I was pretty sure that we'd be surrounded by agents, and my parents would be hauled away. I would miss them, but they just seem very suspicious. And I'd really rather not be raised in a criminal enterprise. Anyway, Dad kept saying, "Keep your eyes open, I think the President is going to walk by."
I heard the Secret Service guy say "Renegade is on the move," but Dad was standing still, so I'm not sure what that's about. But it seemed like they really had noticed us, so I was pretty sure they were making a move. Then a tactical agent came out of some door, and I was sure it was about to go down. But all he did was show my brother the banana clips he was carrying and say something about how many bullets he were in them. No arrests, no standoffs, nothing. Eventually, we got to keep going, but they kept telling us we couldn't go near the Oval Office. They claimed President Obama was in there, but everyone knows when you're president you don't have to work on the weekend.
Well, even if it was a fake out, we couldn't go into the part where the Oval Office is. Instead, we went out to the fancy entrance of the West Wing. Everyone took pictures. What's with the pictures, anyway?
When we walked into the next room, everyone seemed pretty excited. I guess something fancy happens there. I don't know much about it, except that they made me sit on some stupid podium and get my picture taken. I'm not sure why, but it did seem kinda cool. Maybe I'll make a habit out of standing behind podiums. You know, when I can stand.
But then my goofus Dad had to go ruin everything by doing something really geeky. I mean, does it get any geekier than some kind of Superman impersonation featuring a campaign T-shirt? I don't think so.
I was soooo embarrassed. And then, when we walked out, David Plouffe was walking by! I almost died of embarrassment. I mean, there I am, strapped to my goofus Dad, and there's the architect of the biggest presidential campaign in history. Seriously. I almost died. Or maybe I pooped in my diaper. Sometimes it's kinda hard to tell what's going on. I think my Dad might be a stalker, cuz he proceeded to follow David Plouffe up the driveway. Mom said something about "Maybe the president is out and we can see the Oval now," and Dad said, "I don't think he's coming out if Mr. Plouffe is going in." I couldn't believe it. What a stupid thing to say. And then David Plouffe turned around and smiled at us. I almost died. Wait, no, that was spit up. But particularly cheesy spit up. Which is kinda like dying.
Anyway, the rest of the time we just kinda wandered around. The Blake who's not my Opa showed us his office. Then he showed us some sub-basement that my Dad seemed really excited about. Something about a "steam pipe trunk distribution venue." Whatever that means. Before we left, we stopped by the bowling alley. The other Blake says that he heard the president's been practicing. I say you shouldn't try to bowl in a suit and tie.
In the end, it was a pretty cool day, I guess. I pooped where President Obama works, and I think maybe I snuck a little spit up past the towel and onto the carpet. Not that I don't like President Obama. Actually, he seems pretty cool. But considering the extent of my current abilities, I felt that pooping in the West Wing was a pretty fitting option.
Ok, well, see you you next time!