That brings us to an interesting hypothetical: does anyone think his daughters, enrolled at a posh private school, have sampled high-grade dope yet?

If they have, what would their father’s reaction be? Thundering around the room, in the highest of dudgeons, inveighing to his sweet innocents against the eeeevils of drugs?

Or would he try to “intercept” or raid their little stashes in the residence section of the White House?

Barry/Dad: [deep, rasping inhalation] Whoa, Sasha, that’s some good stuff…whattaya call it?

Sasha/Daughter: [giggling] Dad, that’s the new “Googly-Moogly”…it kicks out a lotta smoke!

Barry/Dad: I gotta try this in my new, custom shotgun bong…from now on we’ll call this “Black Powder Skeet Load” and we’ll tell the press we all like to shoot the “skeet”. Oh, and don’t tell your Mother about this, she’ll have me eating broccoli and kale for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks for the rest of the year if she knew. It’ll be our little secret.

Sasha/Daughter: [giggles] Ok, Dad, only if you stop bogarting the stuff, and buy me a purple Maybach like Beyonce has for my birthday.

Barry/Dad: [passes the choom to the left hand side-dejectedly] Sasha, damn, girl…you don’t play, do you!

Sasha/Daughter: [laughs loudly before inhaling deeply] and…um, Dad, Malia knows too so you should think about buying her a cigarette boat or a helicopter ’cause she’s getting tired of flying up with Mom to Martha’s Vineyard or Long Island to hook up with her friends to party with P Diddy and Li’l Wayne.

I don’t like Obama or his politics.