Too close for comfort.

Here is how a typical weeknight goes in the field household:

It starts with the the field and Mrs. Field coming home from work, (not necessarily at the same time) and breaking into their different routines.

Mrs. Field goes to her lap top, and does who knows what. It's usually something work related, because she has a bunch of crap spread out on the table that always leaves the field flummoxed. Then she chats with her sister in Louisiana on the phone for lord knows how long (Thank goodness for the AT&T flat rate). And then she starts to watch television (usually TV One and game shows) until the television starts watching her.

The field, on the other hand, goes to his corner of the world to work on his computer. This is where he does his blogging and an assortment of other things. In the field's work room the television is always on news or politics. This is is where the field usually stays until he colapses at the computer.

But tonight is different. Tonight is Super Tuesday. And as the field tries to concentrate on his blogging and other stuff he needs to get done, Mrs. Field is sitting behind him intently watching all the political news programs. The field wants to know from Mrs. Field what gives; and she proceeds to tell the field that she is trying to see how Barack is doing.....Barack is doing? "I thought you weren't interested in this race?" "Well I changed my mnd" Mrs. Field says. "I am into Barack now, I really do want him to win."

This is,to the field, like hearing that he will be spending an evening at a Mitt Romney rally. As the field tries to concentrate on his blogging and the news on the television, Mrs. Field is working hard trying to to figure out how the "O" man is doing. The field knows this because Mrs. Field is asking lots of questions about the process and what different wins mean in different states. The field is assuring her that the race will be close. That the "O" man is really winning some delgates even in states that he lost, such as New York. And, to top it off, he is doing well in caucus states. Deaf ears, because girlfirend is glued and totally engrossed in the television set.

How did this happen? How did an Obamaholic actually end up in the field's own house? My god is there no escaping you people? Now the field will have to watch everything he eats and drinks. Can't have Mrs. field slipping any Kool Aid in the drink . Or, any "O" pepper or "O" salt in the field's food.

Mrs. Field is mad now, she just saw that the "O" man lost New Jersey and New York. "They won't let him win will they?" "Who is they?" The field asks. "You know who they are negro". Whenever Mrs. Field gets mad she calls the field, Negro. Mrs. field is fuming, she is not a happy camper. The field isn't sure why. "Hey didn't the "O" man win Utah and North Dakota? It just goes to show that maybe , just maybe, the "O" man has turned the corner on this white vote thing after all." " Don't play with my intelligence field, those states don't have a lot of delegates. I am sorry, I just can't take four more years of yet another Clinton. It will be twenty years of the Clintons and the Bushes for crying out loud!"

Mrs. field is still in the field's work room. Mrs. field is behind the field as he types this very post. Hillary is giving her speech now, and Mrs. Field is talking about her (Hillary) under her breath. The scary thing is, the field didn't even see this coming. It's as if Mrs. Field has been sipping the O Aide in secret all along. "How long have you been an Obamaholic?" The field asks her. "What? Look Negro I don't have time for your little crazy sayings. This is real life field, it's not a joke. You just stick to your blogging. I hope you blog about this, about how these folks are trying hard to make the worst candidate win."

The field doesn't even think of looking back. But the field can feel the eyes. So the head stays down, and the field keeps typing. The field is praying that the "O" man pulls out some Western states late. Because messing with you Obamaholics on the web is one thing, but living with one is quite another.