“Well I am Michelle Obama, and I could care less if Superdaddyman is your husband, but we aren’t going down to the South Pole to save him,” she said in all seriousness. It appears that the only way you get any conversation with her is in all seriousness. “No we are going down to the South Pole to save Santa Claus,” well ok maybe I spoke to soon about the seriousness part.
“Ok I have a question first,” and the first lady or whoever this is looked quizzically at me, “Let’s say that you, Superdaddyman and Santa Claus were all hailing a taxi, who would the driver stop to pick up?” Her face dropped into a frown as if she knew where this was going, “You of course, BECAUSE THE OTHER TWO DON’T EXIST!”
I must admit it was both interesting and infuriating how calm her voice was as she was ready to explain something to me like I am a simpleton or something, “Now you see Mrs. Daddyman,” I threw my hands up in the air as I am also quite sick of being called Mrs. Daddyman, “there are a lot of things in this world that don’t exist that do. Well what I mean is there are certain things that simply require a higher security clearance for you to be let in on,” I did insert my world famous eye roll here, “you now have the clearance, so feel free to ask a different question,”
“Roswell?” I shot out thinking I was very clever.
“Weather balloon,” and she saw the look on my face, “Hangar 18 on the other hand is a brothel for the military brass which is well hidden behind all the UFO kookery. Bill Clinton spent a little too much time there but they managed to make it look like he was off playing golf.”
Well that made sense. Maybe she is telling the truth here, although I haven’t seen anything that would resemble super hero status in my husband aside from his overactive imagination, I figured I better play my cards close to the vest from here. “They didn’t even let me grab a jacket,”
“Oh that’s ok I stopped for supplies on the way to your house,” she exclaimed as she handed me a bag. It was the first time I had actually seen her smile as I started pulling items out of the large bag, “It’s Louis Vuitton!” she exclaimed as I pulled out a large overpriced handbag. What I am to do with this I have no clue. “Ferragamo of course,” she added as I pulled out some incredibly uncomfortable looking shoes.
“Open toes at the South Pole?” I asked her.
“They go with the Claiborne jacket and gloves,” which started making me think this is a joke again, or worse yet, a glaring example of why they would think my husband is a super hero.
I thanked her, hoping that I would wake up from this any minute now. She got all serious again as she reached out and grabbed my hand, “Ok now what is your super power?”
“My super power?” I timidly asked back, “Um, I don’t think I have one, I mean my husband says I am the best online shopper in the history of online shopping,” and Ms O simply made a grunt and held out her hands like I should have seen her super power.
“You mean to tell me that you married into one of the most infamous super hero – super villain families in the history of earth and you don’t have a super power?” her face fell into her hands and she started shaking her head back and forth. “I mean even that really annoying one, can talk until you surrender,” she looks out the window as we pull into the airport where Air Force One is waiting for us.
“What the Hell is Joe Biden doing here?” I exclaimed as I saw the crazy looking old guy talking to himself by the stairs to the plane.
“It’s my turn to watch him, and nobody else would take him,” she sighed, “If we find your husband we can tell him it is his turn and that will at least keep them both out of our way,” good plan. … to be continued