Coco

The year is 2028, and the United States has just elected the first woman from Alabama as president. A few days after the election, the president-elect calls her father and says, “So, Daddy, I assume you’ll be coming to my inauguration?” “I don’t think so,” he replies. “It’s a 16-hour drive, your mother isn’t as young as she used to be, and my arthritis is acting up again.” “Don’t worry, Daddy,” she says. “I’ll send Air Force One to pick you up. A limousine will take you from your door.” “I don’t know,” he says. “Everyone will be so fancy. What would your mother wear?” “Oh, Daddy,” she replies, “I’ll make sure she has a beautiful gown, custom made by the best designer in Washington.” “Sweetheart,” he continues, “you know I can’t eat those rich foods you and your friends like.” “Don’t worry,” she says. “The entire affair will be handled by the best caterer in Washington. I’ll make sure your meals are salt-free. I really want you to come.” So the father reluctantly agrees. On January 20th, 2029, the first woman from Alabama is sworn in as President of the United States. In the front row sit her mother and father. The father leans over to the Supreme Court Justice next to him and whispers, “You see that woman up there, hand on the Bible, becoming President of the United States?” “Yes,” the Justice replies. The father says proudly, “Her brother played football for the University of Alabama.”