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Blogged by Mama “Babs” Bush:
Well, the day started out like it oughtta, with Junior on the phone to the troops in Iraq, letting ‘em know that for at least a few minutes, we were all botherin’ our beautiful minds with their suffering and dying – and whatever other unpleasantness might go on over there.
Thank God there happened to be a professional photographer wandering around who was, by mere happenstance, able to capture the moment!
Truth be told, so many of the people in combat, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working out very well for them. Besides, considering the current state of the economy, there’s probably a lot of families who are grateful to have one less mouth to feed on a holiday such as this.
When George Sr. and I arrived at Camp David, Junior was already well into the Wild Turkey (that boy just loves holiday traditions!), and Laura had outdone herself by choosing the perfect fabric for her Thanksgiving outfit (and let's face it, the Lincoln Bedroom really needed new curtains anyway, so what's the fuss?)
Poppy and Junior immediately went off for a discussion behind the woodshed (I keep telling Poppy to stop switchin’ the boy over that Plame woman – but as an ex-CIA man, he just refuses to let go of that whole treason thing), while I helped Laura in the kitchen.
I must say I was a bit shocked when I saw the turkey, a scrawny thing barely enough to feed four, no less a houseful. But as Laura explained, this turkey had been waterboarded in an effort to get it to disclose the location of a much plumper bird – to no avail. But as Rummy was quick to point out, you go to dinner with the the bird you have and not the one you wished you had. (I told Junior he shouldn’t have pardoned that other turkey – but he thought I was talking about Scooter Libby, and for the sake of avoiding an argument, I just dropped the whole discussion.)
Anyway, the invited guests arrived throughout the early afternoon, and included some of our dear old friends along with some of the current GOP presidential candidates.
We were all so pleased to learn that Mitt and his wife ate the same food as regular folk and didn’t expect any cult-like specialties, and when their dog put up a fuss after the long trip atop the roof of their car, Dick Cheney was able to quiet the animal with just a few dozen well-aimed blasts.
Johnny McCain and his lovely bride brought a little contribution towards dessert, home-baked Humble Pie (although that is the third year in row they’ve brought the same thing.)
Gonzo showed up with his newly-retained legal defense team, as he seems to be afraid to travel anywhere without them these days – thank God we were able to accommodate twenty-two unexpected guests!
As we sat down at our respective tables, laden with the bountiful food that the good Lord and the taxpayers had provided (Poppy at the head of one table, and Junior at the head of the kiddie table),
I can’t tell you how sorely missed Reverend Falwell was.
It just didn’t seem the same without his usual Christian sayin’ of the grace, imploring the Lord to bring violent death and destruction upon homosexuals and ACLU members – but we soldiered on without him, tearful as we all were.
After dinner, the kiddies were sent off to bed, and the grownups and Junior (well, he is the president, and it is a special night)) gathered around for some entertainment.
We first tried a board game called Scruples – but after no one could figure out the rules and what they meant, we decided to move on to Truth or Dare.
Alas, we didn’t get very far with that one either. The first round ended with six people pleading the Fifth, three calls of executive privilege, and when Junior attached a signing statement to the final score, we figured we’d move on to something more traditional – like charades!
We decided to work in teams, and Condi and Junior had us all in stitches when she acted-out trying-on shoes and he strummed a guitar – “Katrina!” we all yelled in unison, awash in laughter and literally drowning in hysterics!
Rudy Giuliani acted out his parts so well, he should have been the clear winner – it’s too bad everyone knew the answer was going to be “9-11” each and every time.
And I just know that Fred Thompson would have been wonderful (being a professional actor and all), if only he’d a stayed awake enough long enough to actually play. My first thought was that he’d found his way into Laura’s medicine cabinet, but his grand-daughter, Jeri, assured us that he tended to nod off early most evenings.
As always, it was a wonderful family-and-friends Thanksgiving, and a good time was had by all! I just hope that all Americans enjoyed their holiday as much as we did – and I can’t see how they couldn’t, as I understand that although the line-ups were long, the food banks and soup kitchens were open well into the evening.
May God bless America and all of her citizens – except the ones that don’t belong to our Country Club, the ones that keep talkin’ about democracy, rights, and other such nonsense, and the rest of the 76-percenters who don’t recognize how hard Poppy and I have worked to pass off our idiot son as someone who knows what he’s talking about.
Yours Most Truly,
Babs “Beautiful Mind” Bush
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