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My dad is the president and yours isn't
January 29, 2009 - Per Peterson
Sasha Obama is one lucky second-grader. On Thursday, her mom and dad came to her private school to attend a class presentation. Had to be a great moment for the family. But what the Obamas should’ve done is scheduled his visit as part of bring your parents to school day. I can see it now. After little Brittney’s dad finishes explaining all he does as a banker, and after Jimmy’s dad gets done boring the class to tears with his soliloquy about the Wall Street, Sasha’s teacher calls her to the front of the room to introduce her dad as the CNN camerman lifts his camera on top of his shoulder: “My dad is Barack Obama,” says Sasha, nearly blinded by the 84 flashbulbs going off in her face. “You might have heard of him? He’s the president.” In your face, Brittney. As cool as they thought their parents were before that, the other kids in the class know their folks just don’t stack up. I can hear Sasha’s rival Brittney now: “Gawd daddy, why can’t YOU be the president? Whatever.” It’s not fair, really. Sasha gets to show off her president dad, while the other kids glare at their dad as if to say, “A banker, dad? really? You couldn’t have played baseball or something? Have you ever even BEEN to the White House?” Can’t wait to see what Sasha will bring to show-and-tell next week.
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