There it was.
White as the pages on all the magazine covers its graced: The White House.
I half-skipped to that front door as my homie Barack welcomed me in.
Its just our regular tea time you know. We eat little sandwiches & such. I've tried to convert him over to tuna sandwiches but he prefers the cucumber and cream cheese instead.
I update him on my life..and over the years, he's opened up like a rose in spring. We've been friends so long that I can't even recall the exact moment our alliance became concrete. But I do remember that it was beautiful. His wide smile surfaces as he talks about michelle & the two girls. I match his when I talk about my sweet chocolate surprise from heaven (daniel).

flashback: "Me?" I said? "Are you sure..me?".. YOU. WANT. TO. BE. FRIENDS. WITH. MEEEEEEEEEEEE?!!!


yes. yes & yes. I don't know why, but he chose me. Feeling elated was an understatement. Stick a cape on my back and I believed I could fly, baby! Was that a stoplight I just passed?..well it don't matter cuz i'm not in a car..i'm flying with unexplainable, pure, unadulterated JOY! so happy I felt like the clouds were on my fingertips! Why me? Why. me.??? I don't know..but HEY I'll take it! I wanted to grab the lapels of every man, woman, and child & exclaim: OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!!! BARACK OBAMA WANTS TO BE MY BEST FRIEND! DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

forward: obviously this is a fable. but what is true...down to every sinful bone is that i have a best friend who Obama cannot even hold a candle to. His name is Jesus. Bluntly put..he could turn the president into dust with a breath. with a thought.

so this question is: why have we stopped skipping for joy?