Okay. I'm laughing. Sort of. First because I love the ghoulish caricature of Queen Barbara and her consort. Also because before I left this morning, I got about two paragraphs into a post for today.

This is its beginning:

I was just looking at Susan’s “Honor your mother” headline below. Which to mind Barbara Bush, she of the pearls and deliverer of Junior. More on that in a moment. There’s a boatload of stuff floating around about Pere Bush’s comment that perhaps the country is suffering from “Bush fatigue.” He was explaining away Jeb’s apparently firm decision to forego a presidential run in 2008. Bush fatigue? What a quaint way to describe a nation that is disgusted and sick to the point of puking at the very mention of BushCo. Okay. That was gross. But so are the Bushes. And the matriarch of the Bush family is a royal piece of work.

In the CNN piece about Bush fatigue, the interviewer asked if the same voters weary of Bushes might also be weary of Romney the Mormon. To which The Barbara replied, “Not at all….I mean it was in 1897 that bigamy was outlawed in that church. You know we have a lot of Christian wild people too, and a lot of Jewish wild people and a lot of Muslim wild people. The Mormon religion takes care of it's own, they don't have people on welfare.” Saints preserve us!

That's as far as I got with it.

Somewhere in this house, there is a photo of me with Barbara Bush, taken when George Pere was VP. The golden Reagan years. We were both younger then, of course, Big Babs and I. Thinner and less gray, too. I was supposed to like her because I worked for B. Dalton at its HQ, and Barbara was all about literacy in those days. Terribly funny, in retrospect, given the whole "My Pet Goat" deal and the son who doesn't read.

Frankly, I think Junior fell closer to Mom's tree than Dad's. Babs Bush has blue icewater in her veins, zero compassion and absolutely no tact whatsoever, pedigree be damned. Which proves, I suppose, that you can't buy class. And that Junior's mommy issues are probably more an issue than his self-imposed wanna-please-and-best-the-old-man pressure.

Susan is spot on about the enervating thing that is BushCo. So. Very. Tired. Morning, noon, night. Oh, and in case you hadn't picked up on this? I don't much like those people.