We’re going to miss a deadline tonight, as the House apparently has no plans to vote on anything important today. The President called a big old bluff played by a bunch of big old babies. Perhaps a greater share of our public has woken up, given the sight of this game. Perhaps now more are paying attention to who bears a tad more blame for some absurd gridlock. Perhaps. Perhaps, if the country endures a rocky fiscal start to 2013, they’ll hold people in office accountable, in a less screechy, less costumed manner than that of a random grouping of hot beverage lovers.
I’m not holding out hope. Expectations were so low, nobody is surprised. I’m numb to it now.
Here’s something exciting, though: Our daughter is preparing to host her first slumber party on Friday. She’ll be Eight. Such a big number. We went to a bead store today and picked out materials for her girlfriends and her to make bracelets–seed beads, memory wire… I had suggested some little silver charms for the ends, but leave it to our daughter to go for far sparklier items–crystals, for pete’s sake! These bracelets are going to be nice. We picked out a leather cord, shark’s tooth, and skull and crossbones charm for her brother, too. She’s very, very excited.
And she’s recovered from pink eye, caught last week. I finally got the hang of administering her eye drops so as to cause her minimal discomfort. I told her that the drops were just doing to the “bugs” in her eyes what her brother says he’ll do if he ever sees bad guys: “punching them in the bellies!” She giggled at that.
All told, she says the entire week is her “best ever.” Tonight we’re even heading to a neighborhood New Year’s Eve party, with a backyard fire pit and everything. Their first New Year’s party. The two kids are thrilled. They’re getting so big.
In 20 or 30 years when our entitlement programs are smaller, when our planet’s temperature is higher and our climate is even more chaotic, they’ll be hitting their stride, professionally, socially, emotionally. Tonight, as they eat their pizza and chomp on strawberries and apples, there are all these guys in DC, delaying tough decisions and posturing and lying and hiding.
I just want to punch some bellies.
Instead I’ll just wish you and yours a Happy New Year. It will be happy. It will be good. Our children say so.