Nervous about the Bushes

Yesterday evening my tummy was not feeling well. When Mommy asked what was wrong, I offered my usual code for this event.

"A little bit nervous," I said.

"About what?" Mommy asked.

"Nervous about the bushes." I replied.

Now some of you will recall that the last time I was nervous about the bushes was on the ill-fated trip to Santa Cruz. Mommy knew what I meant this time and comforted me.

Ironically, the next morning, when I was feeling better, Daddy said that he was "nervous about the Bushes." Of course, he meant something different. He was referring to the fact that Daddy and Mommy are not at all happy about the victory of George W. Bush last night.

I came with Mommy to vote on November 2 (wearing my Future President tee-shirt, of course!) and Mommy explained that she wanted a nice man named John Kerry to be President and take care of our country. This morning, she told me that while she and Daddy and many other people voted for John Kerry, more people voted for a man named George Bush. I sadly said, "Uh oh!" Mommy said that that was her sentiment exactly. Daddy's too.