So I’m watching the debate last night, trying to be objective, and admitting that Palin is holding her own and doing a pretty good job – especially when she actually answers the questions. (Sorry, conservative bloggy friends. I’m just not a fan.) Then she comments on healthcare, which is a hot-button issue with me.
Out of nowhere, beyond my control, my tongue pokes out of my mouth and emits a very loud raspberry.
Hello, my name is Dan.
I’ve posted before about how I am turning (or have turned) into my mother. It’s something that seemingly and unavoidably happens to the best of us.
But my father?!? Heaven help me.
My dad is notorious for yelling at the television and voicing his opinion directly to the idiots that appear on his screen. It has always made me NUTS. I try to remind him “they can’t hear you,” but he doesn’t listen.
Oh, wait. That’s my husband. And televised sporting events.
I have fought really, really hard against my family heritage of judgment and obnoxious, flaring tempers, and I’m determined not to pass it on. It runs deep. So I was more than a little taken back when I start voicing my opinion to an oblivious Sarah Palin.
My only consolation is that I know undoubtedly that precisely 70 miles from my house, a stodgy old fart – my beloved father – was yelling at his TV, too…only he was yelling at Senator Biden.
There may be hope for me yet.