Dammit, he made me cry. And not from a spanking, either, for once.
We’re selling both Florida houses, and the DC townhouse. They are an unnecessary expense and a draw on Secret Service resources.We’re going to buy a house in this region, somewhere rural, but close enough we can easy ferry Tory’s parents back and forth, and large enough for all of us.
Once the kids have graduated from high school, we’ll buy a house in Florida for the three of us and sell the one up here. Then we’ll settle in and nest. Chris and Kev will be more than ready to have my undivided attention.
Although Elliotis making frequent “hints” to Kev that he’d like him to run his campaign, or, at the very least, consult as a strategist and then come aboard as his chief of staff.
Worst fucking job in government, but my Sir is seriously considering it, with our blessings. Kev’s good—damned good. For a variety of reasons.
I’m not sure how I’ll feel about that closer to the election. I might be ready for Kevto quit when I leave. I know first-hand how exhausting Kev’s job already is.
Can I just be selfish and enjoy my guys?
I want to raise our kids. Hudson started slipping and calling us Mom and Dad a few months ago, and we haven’t corrected him.
Sometimes, Ivy and Myla call us that, too.
If they want to, fine. If not—fine. We love them, and that love isn’t contingent upon them using a specifictitle for us.
I need my kids to behappyandfeelloved.
I’ll damn sure never extract any kind of promise from them like my mother did to me.
Because of the circumstances with the kids, I got sneaky and asked Benchley and Michelle if they’d mind if the kids called them Grandma and Grandpa. Michelle was all for that plan, leaving Benchley smiling and nodding his assent, too.
And we added anew member to the household, and it’s totally Kev’s fault.
Chris and I had to be out of town for a summit meeting in Paris. The kids were going to a zoo with their class, and Kev and Yasmine went with them.
Somehow, and I’m still a little foggy on the details, there was a discussion with one of the reptile keepers, who apparently was also a breeder, and raised tortoises, and there was an impromptuafter-school detour arranged by Secret Service.
Chris and I awoke to our phones blowing up with media swamping us and asking what the “First Tortoise” was going to be named.
Because Kev told the kids sure, they could have a pet tortoise.
And it gets better.
He bought them not just any ole tortoise, but a Sulcata. These fuckers get huge!
But when I asked him over the phone, once we realizedwe weren’t drunk or dead in some sort of alternate dimension, Kev quietly explained Sulcatas live a loooong time.
In other words, unlike a dog, or cat, who might not live more than ten or fifteen years, the kids likely won’t have to bid a sad good-bye to their pet.
Even Chris couldn’t argue with his logic.
And Hudson ended up naming him Pecan, much to Chris’ dismay, although my Sir hid hisreaction well.
But now Pecan has the run of the White House, and we have baby gates upstairs to keep him from falling down them. After hours, when he roams the first floor, Secret Service actually came up with a strap that goes around him and holds a tracker so they can quickly find him.
As a school project, Ivy and Myla set up a “White House Tortoise Cam” website, strapped a small camera tohim when they take him outside for grass time, and now he’s the most popular tortoise in the world. He’s also a hit during press briefings.
Go figure.
Tonight, the three of us are all snuggled in bed together, Kev in the middle. It’s cold outside, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we’re going to have a full house of guests and family.
Pecan is confined to a specially built pen that can hold him,located off the family kitchen, because we don’t want him to accidentally get stepped on or lost. He’ll get to come out and visit tomorrow once things settle down.
Physically, Kev has fully healed from the attack. Emotionally, I’m sure it’s going to take him a while, but he has our love to support him.
