Country #2

Greetings from Kenya where I now introduce myself as Barack Obama. They don’t believe me but get a good belly laugh out of it nonetheless. The immigration officer (normally members of the stick-up-the-ass fraternity) even let me take his picture when he learned that we were Obamabrothers, but still would not waive my visa fee. My new identity will not last long as we’ll be here less than 24 hours, but I’ll have fun with this a few more times to be sure. It should be good for at least one more terrorist fist bump from the conductor on the bus, and from some of the fellow travelers under the age of five. It’s with that crowd that I really excel. I give out little bananas, “courtesy of Barack Obama”, and ask mothers if they “would like to have President Obama hold their baby”. They do. I give them the tender care that Malia and Sasha got as the bus rolls down the road. Morgan acts as the paparazzi, capturing images of the children in BHO’s hands. And then it’s time for breastfeeding so I relinquish the child…my work on this bus is now over.