I Love Karl Rove

Bird in the hand, two Bushes.

I'm such an addled l'il RoveHo sometimes! Maybe it's all that thorazine still tickling away at my brain from after The Incident my sophomore year, or the funny, numb-y headaches I get from the glowing thing in the basement that Rovey tells me not to touch, but from time to time, wee chunks of the day go missing, It makes me so sad - not just because I all of a sudden wonder where I am and just KNOW I'll never be able to get all of that marmalade out of my hair and leotard, but also because I treasure ever single precious moment with my Rovey and don't want to miss them. Lucky for me, he's set up cameras in every room of the house, and all the places I like to eat and shop! What a sentimental little hedgehog my Roveykins is - wanting to be with me all the time like that - even if I'm just having a boring old lunch with friends of mine he can't stand. I'm sure it wasn't especially scintillating for him to watch me have silly girl talk time with Donna Brazile and Tipper, but he takes time out of his busy schedule just to check in on me and take an interest in MY life. It's just so nice to have someone so involved as my pudgy possum.

It sure came in handy this afternoon, when we were spooning in the backyard hammock, occasionally peeling apart so I could use my nails to erupt a little Vesuvius from the cluster on his back. We were giggling and singing, and I suddenly noticed that there was quite an interested little circle of our fine feathered friends milling about. I'm really only used to that happening whenever we go over to visit with his friends Nancy and Ronnie (though those birds are MUCH bigger and scarier than these and fly in a circle over the house), so I warbled out (with apologies to The Carpenters and sooo painfully off-key - Rovey's the musical one in the family - very few people know that he actually got into the University of Utah on a skin flute scholarship) "Why do birds suddenly appear, every tiiiiiime, Rovey's neeeaaar? Just like meeeee, they long to beeee, close to him…." But then Rovey chuckled no, it was probably the suet. I was pretty confused until he showed me the tape from that day's mid-morning snack, which had involved his ordering me to take the leftovers, and trace small, greasy portraits of the Bush Twins all over the pallid tundra of his tummy, until he announced he was about to serve a juicy protein snack he'd made just for his Virginia. I suppose I was so busy slurping all that up, that I'd not noticed when he'd stashed an extra dab of the suet in his navel just in case he got peckish later. That's my Rovey - always prepared!