The Blogger: Anybody read Brooks today?
The Dad: Yeah, but I can’t remember what he said.
The Blogger: He’s got some new way of dissecting the country. Now it’s all about high school. He ended the column with Vote For Pedro.
The Brother: That’s so cool.
The Dad: What?
The Brother: Vote for Pedro. You know from Napoleon Dynamite.
The Dad: What?
The Husband: What percentage of Times readers got that line?
The Blogger: So, Brooks says that all liberals were really the nerds in high school and all the conservatives were the jocks in high school. What if you are a nerd but your high school is in a red state? Do you vote for Republican, but hate yourself? Or what if you are a jock in a high school in a blue state? Or what if you are a jock, but your parents are Bobos in a college town in red state? How messed up are you then? huh? huh?
The Dad: Pass the pancakes.
Everyone: Dad! They’re called tortillas.
The Brother: Well, at least he didn’t call them crackers.
More politics talk. Dad thought that Colbert bombed at the correspondence dinner. We reminded him that he has the pop culture awareness of hamster. How genius is the “Know Your Representative” segment on the Colbert show? We talked about badly the Republicans are going to get creamed in the next election. Dad thought the Republicans were even going to lose some safe seats. Dad thought that the Dubai port deal was going to be a big deal for Republicans, who would be too pissed off to show up to vote in November. Everybody else thought that Republicans weren’t going to show up to vote for a whole lot of other reasons.
Some blog talk. The SIL and I discussed the prevalence of plumbing trouble amongst the mommy bloggers. Groupwide discussion of whether Andrew Sullivan was no longer a Bushie because of the gay issue, the war, or the poor budget management.
Mandatory deconstruction of kiddie TV. The Husband and the SIL asked, “why are there no electric guitars on Little Einsteins?”
Vegetable intake by grandchildren quietly noted by the Grandma. Information to be recited at some future date as evidence of poor parenting.
Broken record conversation. Gas or charcoal.
The usual family dinner on my mom’s back porch.
Apt. 11d 
I hope charcoal won, because while gas is undoubtedly easier, it’s nowhere near as good.
Also- I was a punk rocker in high school and now I’m a Republican.
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We get our charcoal at a latin market – latinos won’t stand for the anthracite taste of supermarket briquets. And we light it with a propane torch, so no smell of lighter fluid. Works for us. Your mileage may differ.
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No offense Dave S, but lighter fluid? Propane torch? What about the trusty chimney starter? Paper on the bottom, charcoal on top- it’s perfect.
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I hope it will be my gift to my daughters — and to womankind in general — to not quietly note vegetable intake on ANYONE’S children! I hope your mother appreciates what you do, regardless of its vegatable outcomes.
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