
Why do they always pick the ones where my mouth looks like a dogs asshole?

Sort of a "members only" place to talk about all things Dad and get the scoop on the fruit of his loins.
The thing that stood out to me, which once seemed like an indescribable characteristic is actually quite simple to describe.As it turns out, everything is pretty simple when you don't support your arguments with, um, other sentences. That's something smart guys do. They do it with their hat on backwards, mostly.
It is that my dad is presidential. Not presidential in the fact that he looks or dresses like a president, which the press loves to discuss.Looks like a president. Indeed, he is a white man in a suit. There's just no denying it. But that's for superficial types to worry about, not philosopher-princes like me, CRom!
By presidential, I mean that he shares characteristics with the great leaders of our country like Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, FDR, and Ronald Reagan. By presidential I mean that he is the type of leader in whom I would trust our country's future.By "presidential," I mean "has characteristics that other presidents had." By "characteristics," I mean "a belief held by me that he would be an awesome president." Between him and Lincoln, it would be a close call. But his presidential looks would probably break the tie.
The entire family was gathered together in New Hampshire last week to celebrate my mom's birthday. It was a great reason to see everyone, especially all of my nieces and nephews. The weather wasn't exactly cooperative (we were in the midst of a nor'easter), but we still managed to have some fun. My brother, Ben, and I played home run derby in the middle of a snow storm. I was even thinking about jumping in the lake before we arrived, but it was still covered with ice when we got there.Then it sort rambles on about Romney fixing rain gutters and being unable to relax and enjoy downtime. He's got infinite energy! He won't take long vacations while the world falls apart! He'll use his power tools and build manly stuff like picnic tables. Anyway, back to the topic at hand.
I discovered later that day that there is one thing that can wear my dad out, however. My wife, Mary, and I had a campaign event in Manchester the same night of the storm. I'll touch more on the event itself in later postings. Anyway, my mom . . .And that's the teaser (look here to see what I mean, and scroll toward the bottom)! Read More? Of course I'll read more! What sort of naughty thing did your mom do that left everyone in a big sweaty heap by the end of the night?