As I've mentioned before, my ex-husband is heavily involved in local politics in a nearby community. He is, in point of fact, a selectman in a town known for its contentious politics, mud-slinging elections, vicious backbiting amongst its officials, and, y'know, the like. We (meaning me, my dad, and D) follow his "career" in the newspaper, usually with a lot of chortling and eyerolling involved.
Well, the other day, my dad sticks the paper in front of me gleefully. There's a *half-page* article on him and how he was the only one on the board/council for (or possibly against, I dunno) a certain issue, totally in opposition to every other one of the selectmen. "OMG!" I said. "He's a maverick! Just like Sarah Palin!" Then I laughed so hard I almost hurt myself. Because I'm in a good mood. Or possibly manic.
And my good mood is only enhanced by my knowledge that if he were to ever aspire to any Sarah Palin-like higher offices, I could squash him under my thumb like a bug. If I chose. Oh, the stories I could tell to any concerned media outlet. Now, I wouldn't, both because I really don't bear him that kind of ill will--I tend to feel more sorry for him than anything, knowing that on his deathbed he's probably gonna realize everything he thought was important is shit--and I'm not vindictive anyway, and because I wouldn't embarrass our child with sordid admissions to the press. But the knowledge that I could? As they say, priceless. The power I hold in reserve is intoxicating. (Does that make me a bad person? Probably. Oh, well.)
xoxo
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