Setting The Record Straight About Daddy

I have been following the Missouri political blogs my whole life--all 18 months of it--mostly while sitting on daddy's lap while he blogs. Anyway, you can imagine my surprise at some of what I found online today.

First of all, I read where someone called my Daddy a "real bastard." I have heard my mom and dad talk about this political stuff, and I know that they say you can't let Republicans get by with telling lies because if you don't hold them accountable the first time, they just can't seem to stop themselves and they keep telling those same lies over and over again.

I am not old enough to know exactly what a "real bastard" is, but it doesn't sound very nice to me, so I'm sure whoever called my Daddy a name like that must have been a Republican--or maybe a reporter or two.

And one Republican blogger wrote me out of the scene altogether today when he said we moved to Washington, DC where Daddy makes a "comfortable living for his wife and little girl." As you may have noticed in the picture over there, Daddy has two "little girls." (I'm the adorable one on the right. My big sister, Natalie, is the cute one on the left. Mercifully, we got our looks from our mom.)

I also heard that the Republicans have decided to start yet another blog to try to keep up with the one that Daddy helped start. I don't mean to criticize, but the Missouri Republicans seem to go through blog strategies faster than I go through a pack of Pampers.

My big sister Natalie says she just hopes that new blog doesn't have audio of John Hancock singing on it, because he sounds just like John Ashcroft, and heaven knows we don't need to hear any more of that. Natalie says that Hancock fellow does play some mean Scott Joplin tunes though, so he can't be all bad.

Anyway, I hope those Republicans have better luck with this new blog than they've had with their others because I have been kind of embarassed with some of their previous work. Most of it struck me as a bit juvenile.

If the stress of blogging starts to get to them this time, rather than let them continue to embarass themselves, maybe I'll loan them one of my pacifiers.