One Father’s Humorous Quest to Run For President of the House—His Own House
I ran for president of my own house. You'll never believe the results.
My fellow Americans, earlier this year, I threw my hat into the political arena and announced my candidacy for president of our house, 347 Elm Street. My goal was simple, unseat the incumbent, my wife—Mommy, who I believed had grown careless in how she handled the affairs of our home.
I ran on a strict law-and-order platform: Finish one jar of peanut butter before opening a second. No talking to me when the Mets are batting. If you take a slice of pizza, close the box so the rest of the slices stay warm. And no matter how much whining and cajoling, we are not buying a dog.
My qualifications to take this household of three in the right direction were evident. I was and remain the only one in the family who can open pickle jars. I was and remain the only one in the household who can remember the Amazon Prime password. I was and remain the only one who doesn’t scream when they see small bugs. I was and remain the Best Dad—see my coffee cup.
It was a close contest that saw me make many inroads, best exemplified during the debates, where I refused to back down as I pressed my opponent on some of the hottest topics of the day. On infrastructure spending, I made a bold stand, insisting, “It’s not broken, you have to jiggle the handle!” On the issue of transportation, I questioned my rival’s refusal to make left-hand turns. And on health care, I fought the lonely battle against buying a dog, reminding everyone, “I’m allergic!”
But tonight, the votes have been cast, the ballots tallied, and the people of this great house have spoken, and I respect their decision. And while I take great pride in how close the election was, two votes to one, it is clear that I will not be your next president. Only minutes ago, I turned to my opponent, sitting next to me on the couch, and congratulated her on a hard-fought victory. She nodded graciously before raising the volume on the TV as she continued to watch another episode of Succession.
Contentious as this campaign has been, it is now time to unite our home around the winner. I call for all of my supporters, namely me, to fall in line to ensure a smooth transition from the previous Mommy administration to the next Mommy administration, which will mark her 21st term in office. Although I will not be serving as your president and commander-in-chief, I will continue to fight for the things that my campaign stood for, especially that one about the peanut butter.
And now, as I prepare to end my campaign and take our new dog for a walk, I want to thank each and every voter, no matter who you recklessly voted for. And may God bless 347 Elm Street.