Tim Russert: Hey, Pumpkin. What's wrong?
Me: Gee, Dad. I guess I'm just sort of glum. Brandon - and all of my friends, for that matter - are rehearsing all the time and no one can hang out with me on my birthday. And who the hell is going to pay for all this wedding crap? And why did my grandfather act so weird on the phone? Did he hate the birthday card I sent to him? Why? I thought I was being heartfelt and genuine, but he acted like I filled it with cyanide. What the hell?
Tim Russert: Don't worry, Lacy. Tell you what. I'll pay for everything, cancel everyone's rehearsals, and have a long talk with your grandfather.
I will also make sure that Obama delivers a clear and persuasive message about his plan for the US economy. And send you a website to donate to that will help people who are starving because of this whole nutty famine thing that's suddenly happening.
Me: I love you, Tim Russert. I mean, Dad.
Tim Russert: By the way, Pumpkin, have you lost weight? You look thinner.
Me: (tears brimming)