President Dad

Last night I had a dream that my dad was the new President of the United States. As the first family, we enjoyed a succession of balls and parties on Inauguration night, and when it was all over we rode the elevator up to the top floor of our hotel.

It was just the four of us in the elevator. "Are you nervous, Dad?" I asked, referring to all the responsibilities that now lay before him.

"Yeah, a little," he said. "They tell me it's going to hurt."

"Huh?" I said.

Just then the elevator doors opened to reveal a panel of doctors in crisp white coats. "Are you ready, Mr. President?" they asked. My father stepped forward.

"I'll see you all after the surgery," he told us.

Then they removed the top of his head and implanted his brain with the wisdom and experience of all the previous presidents.

They left out George W. Bush.