Raindrops in my Eyes

Raindrops in my Eyes

            My congressperson, the honorable Adele Pate, shattered my world…I don’t know…recently.  She said her future is unfolding, and therefore she wasn’t running for congress again.  It ranked right up there with her best previous explanation, “I have a meeting.”  She’s a member of the Climbing Rose faction of her Party—they’re the ones whose prescription for every problem seems to be, “Grab my thorns!”  We have to raise the debt ceiling or our country will be internationally shamed: “Grab my thorns!”  We can’t permit the sequester or millions will suffer: “Grab my thorns!”  Obama’s health care program is what we wanted eight years ago: “Grab my thorns!”  Why did you do all that damage?  “I have a meeting!”

            It’s clear now that Adele is thinking about sharing her thorny philosophy with even more lucky people.  She’s surely got Imelda Marcos, ‘the shoe lady’, spinning with jealousy in her grave.  Adele’s future is blossoming!  I had to call her office and congratulate her.  First I had to wipe the water from my eyes.  Fortunately it was ‘towel day’ all over the galaxy, so I had my eyes dried in a twinkle.  Somebody named Clod answered the phone, and promised me he would convey my sobs to her honorable self.

            I asked if I might send roses.  He replied, “She already has plenty of thorns.” 

            “I know,” I said, still sniffling, “I thought she could use something that smelled nice, for once.”

            “Right,” he said, and hung up.