When we are not subverting nature, the social fabric of this country and the Word of G-d, my partner and I have (together with our son) have my sister, my brother-in-law and my dad over for Sunday night dinner. Sometimes, my cousin joins us and, in the non-summer months, my partner’s father comes, too. (Both our mothers are now of blessed memory.)
My brother-in-law and my son look at books that contain facts about lots of different things in the ways that big boys and little boys do. So far, not subversive. But wait, they are reading about pre-historic animals and their presently existing descendants, if any. Ok, evolution and not creationism or intelligent design (has anyone holding the latter view ever looked at these scary ugly beasts?) Check the subversive box.
We gather around the table for dinner. A summertime fare. No chilled white wine from the Napa Valley. So, ok so far. Wait, watercress, roasted pine nuts and pasta in the pasta salad. Effete eastern liberals. My dad and partner have camomille tea. AAAAArgh. Check another subversive box.
We talk about world events. Concerned citizens. Good sign. OH, NO, we are talking about health care and end of life care and how not every test is necessary and, even under orthodox doctrine, a procedure can be rejected if it prolongs the function of an organ but not the functioning of the person. Crazy liberals using orthodoxy against those who would preserve life at all costs (except when these same people condone capital punishment). Oooh, looking like a strike out, but since we caught the “pro-life; pro-death penalty” group in its own hypocrisy, let’s call that a foul tip. No check in the subversive box.
It is 7:45pm and time for our son to have a bath, read a story and go to bed and for me to do the dishes. Sounds a little Cleaver-like. We all hug and kiss at the door and our son yells, “family hug!” so three generations huddle together in a big hug, squeeze and many kisses. Uh, oh, hippie commune. Strike three. Big check in the subversive box.
Guess we’ve clearly drank the Obama kool aid. It tastes good, so I think I’ll get more. And for the record, my partner and I have had Saturday night dates since our son was a 1 year-old (he is 7 now). So, if POTUS and FLOTUS need some date night ideas, they should feel free to have their staff members ask us.
