When I was a little kid, I couldn’t swallow pills. Not even little ones.
They would stick in my throat, their bitterness spreading on my tongue, and I just could not swallow them down.
Couldn’t do it.
So my mom, being the nice and amazing lady that she is, would stick a pill in a spoonful of ice cream. Sometimes applesauce, but ice cream worked better.
The sweet, smooth ice cream covered the icky, bitter pill perfectly, and I could easily swallow it.
It didn’t matter that the lump of ice cream was larger than the pill. It just worked.
For many years, if I had to take a pill, any pill, that’s how it had to be done.
I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.
Something to do with Washington D.C.? Maybe?
What does something unpleasant and bitter, hiding in something sweet and pleasant, have to do with Washington D.C.?
I think it might have to do with Congress maybe? Perhaps something to do with how bills are turned into laws?
I’m not sure. It’s right on the tip of my tongue.
Oh well. Maybe it will come to me later.