And Then Fire Shot Out Of His Eyes

Yesterday our children got a beautiful pep talk from an articulate, successful man who overcame an under privileged childhood to become the first black President of the United States. A kind human being that knows about hard work and the need for confidence and education took the time to tell my kids, who are also being raised by a struggling single mother, that they must take responsibility for their own lives and education, that where they are right now doesn't have to determine where they'll end up, that no one's written their destiny for them and that they make their own future. He challenged them to set goals for themselves, to never give up on themselves, and to not let their failures define them. He inspired them by asking them what their contribution is going to be. What problems are they going to solve? What discoveries will they make?

Right before this man spoke to my daughter, a girl in her class got up and started gathering her books. My daughter asked her where she was going. Her response: "My mom doesn't want me to listen to Satan."

Let me clarify one thing - I have actually heard Satan's pep talk to kids and it talks a lot about doing drugs to make life better, having lots of sex with kids from detention centers with condoms made of rice paper, burning crosses on the lawns of people you don't like, hating yourself, hating your parents, dropping out of school to become rodeo clowns, posing naked for magazines that don't airbrush and sticking your head up the butts of large zoo animals.

Satan my ass.

Thank you, Mr. President, for giving a shit about my kids.