Your Mom is a Worse Winner

I come from a divided household.

Not divided like one parent roots for IU and the other roots for Purdue (which is common in these here parts) but divided like one parent leans to the left and the other parent leans to the right. In fact, there's a little stuffed donkey that sits on my mother's side of the bedroom facing a little stuffed elephant that sits on my father's side of the bedroom. It's a constant reminder of one of the biggest sources of angst in my father's life.

It's been a subject of hilarity in my family since I can remember that every election day my mother says, "Well, I'm off to cancel out your father's vote," and my father nearly keels over from apoplexy. There was a period of time when I think my father was in utter despair because his eldest child and only daughter had already firmly ensconced herself on the left, and my brother was also leaning that way as well. (Meaning that he was such a momma's boy that he would have spouted communist rhetoric had my mother told him to.) Since then my brother has given in to his true nature and moved over to the right so the family is a bit more balanced. (I say a "bit more balanced" instad of "balanced" because my little brother doesn't really care about politics. At least, not like my father and I do. My mother, I am convinced, only cares enough to drive my father insane.) Still, we kids moved out (as kids do) and we're back to my mother hanging up on the Republican party when they call for donations and the vein in my father's forehead threatening to explode everytime someone mentions the name "Clinton."

Still, my competitive nature doesn't come from nowhere, you know. After we elected W twice, my father wouldn't even say "Hello" when he answered my calls. He used the caller ID as a weapon and answered singing "Happy Days are Here Again."

(I tried to explain that that particular song was used as the campaign song for a Democrat, but he didn't care. In fact, I think that just added to his joy in using that song against me. His exultation knew no bounds.)

Imagine how he felt after THIS election. My phone call to sing to him was met with stony silence. I thought that was bad. But then my mother had to go and send out these "Thanksgiving Cards."Apparently my mother and I have more in common than I originally thought.