Still dressing for their day downtown, Obama asked his wife to repeat the day's schedule of activities in the great city of Chicago.
"A variety of things today, sweetheart. Before leaving the house, just thought you'd like to know President Clinton promised to report all foreign income so you could consider his wife for a cabinet post. Did you hear?"
"Yes, sure did."
"Shouldn't we do the same? I mean, we have quite a stack of campaign finance records over there," said Michelle.
"Stack? What stack?" said Obama, waltzing over to grab the papers into his arms.
"That one with all the accounting records you're carrying," she answered.
"What accounting records?" he said, moving toward the shredder.
"THE ONES RIGHT IN YOUR ARMS. RIGHT NOW. PLAIN AS DAY," she said with her hand on her hip.
"What are you saying? Come again? I can't hear you over this gadget, dear," said Obama as he fed consecutive stacks of paper into the loud machine.
"I SAID, WE SHOULD CONSIDER REPORTING FOREIGN INCOME SOURCES TO FEDERAL AUTHORITIES LIKE THE CLINTONS ARE THIS WEEK."
Obama fed the last stack of papers into the shredder. He turned the machine off.
"Sorry...You say something about cash or whatever? We're not scheduled to meet our banker today, are we?"
"No. We're going to get started in decorating the tree downtown. But we should see the banker about those finance records of foreign contributions to be on the safe side."
"You see any foreign contribution records, sweetheart," he said, stuffing the last few shreds of paper into a large bag. "We better get this snowflake-tone tinsel downtown for that tree. You know how funny this town gets around the holidays," he said.
"Oh, I do get so distracted sometimes," said Michelle. "Those ribbons of white tinsel will look just great on this year's tree. I'm so excited!"