Dear Mr. President,
I think I've created a monster. Or monsters to be exact. I'll admit I sported the Obama t-shirt around the election but have put it away except for the occasional showing at the local gym. I swear I haven't brought up your name much in the house lately, but that hasn't seemed to quell my children's delight in uttering your name.
Case in point. Sunday morning as my husband and I were emerging from our slumber the kids had started their morning by playing school. They would move between bedrooms and coordinate snack time, play time and learning time with their imaginary students. They were obviously the teachers.
Apparently the bus had arrived to drop off the students to the after-school program (a little art imitating life) and my son shouts out,
"I have to go get Brack Obama (he calls you Brack) off the bus. I'll be right back after I get Brack."
His sister replied,
"Ok. Go get Barack Obama and I'll be up here."
My son returned a few minutes later proclaiming,
"I had to get 5 Brack Obamas off the bus."
It appears you've multiplied.
So, I just wanted to apologize if they start sending fan mail and requesting your presence at birthday parties. They do feel like they know you and yesterday, all five of you, behaved very well at their school.
Mom of the Barack fan club