Rats

“They ratted ‘em out!” Mom yelled from the living room.

I looked over at Bill, who was busy designing user interface screens for our current project.  “Ratted them out?” I whispered.

He shrugged and replied, “You better go check or she’ll come looking for you and by the time she gets here she’ll forget what she wanted to say.”

“Okay,” I sighed as I stood and started making my way toward the other end of the house.

“Who ratted out who?” I asked as I came into the living room.

“All three of them,” she exclaimed.  “I just heard it on the radio.”

“Mom, you don’t have a radio in here,” I commented drily.  “Do you mean you saw it on the TV?”

“No, I heard it.  It must have been on the radio in the other house.”

“You don’t have another… Oh, never mine.  So, who ratted out who?”

“I told you, the three of them.  They all got ratted out.”

“What three.  Are you talking about Trump and Hillary?”

“Yes, and the other one.”

“Gary Johnson?”

“No, not him.  I don’t know who that is.  The other one trying to get elected.”

“Elected to President or some other office?”

“No, not an office.  To President.”

Well, Mom, there’s only Hillary, the Donald, and Gary Johnson,” I explained.

“Not a Johnson.  It was Hillary and Trump and the other one.  That’s who got ratted on.”

“And what was the ratting about?”

“I don’t remember, but it was pretty good,” she said with a grin.  “I just know I’m voting for the other guy.”

“What other guy?”

“The one they aren’t ratting on.”

“Johnson?”

“No, I told you, I don’t know who that is.”

“Don’t worry, neither does anyone else,” I replied.  “But I still don’t know who you’re talking about.  All that’s left is Trump and Clinton.  There isn’t anyone else.”

“Are you sure,” she asked, squinting her eyes and looking at me suspiciously.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I concluded, turning to leave.

“Well that’s a pretty crappy choice.”

“Yup, pretty much,” I said, as I started back down the hall.  “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I think you’re wrong and I’m voting for the other guy!” she called after me.

“Okay, Mom, you do that.  An imaginary guy couldn’t be much worse.”

Hillary & Donald