Premier Mom

I'm a Saskatchewan girl, but I've been following the race between the two female-led political parties in Alberta with much interest.  Okay, so not that much interest, it's politics after all.  Not since Ralph Klein's boozy hijinks have I really given a hoot, but this caught my attention.  See, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with that province. They've always been kind of like our snooty next door neighbour who invites us over once in a while to use the hot tub.  They're all, "OOOh, we have a great big mall and Banff and a giant Easter egg and stuff..." Yeah, okay...

I'm forced to make nice with Alberta, though, because most of my family is there.  Yes, it managed to vacuum out half of my siblings in the 80s when there were no jobs to be had here in Saskatchewan.  Not true anymore, is it? HA!  Stick that in your giant Fantasy Land roller coaster!  Plus we had Corner Gas so...winner, winner chicken dinner, that's what I say.

Anyway, no matter the outcome, the victim lucky winner charged to lead Alberta to utopia will be a woman, and the official opposition will also be a woman, so let's hear it for the girls!  Of course when I hear this, my mind has to wander to the challenges women must face in what is traditionally a man's world.   Immediately, I consider the consequences of an ill-fitting bra or a particularly restricting pair of nylons on one's level of concentration.

So these women must either really have their act together, or they have People, don't you think?  Curious how they can go on those long, dreadful bus rides and yet appear perfectly groomed before the cameras.  I can barely manage to be in charge of one house and family, I cannot imagine having to deal with being in charge of Alberta as well.  Talk about stress...my slogan would be 'Alberta...Just One More Thing That Needs My Attention'.   If I suddenly woke up and found myself Premier, I probably wouldn't last a day because I'd approach it far too much like a Mom.

First of all, waking up would be a problem.  I would think the Premier would have to wake up extra early and read boring things I imagine to be called Statutes and Resolutions...what a drag.  No longer would I remain in my housecoat until the very last minute slugging coffee, and reading the obituaries while I bark out lunch-making orders to the kids:  "Bread and Miracle Whip is not actually a sandwich!" or "For God's sake have a vegetable in your life!" No sir, I would be careening around the house, digging through the laundry baskets looking for something to wear. "I have to be at the Legislature in an hour! Who has seen the stiff & scratchy suit jacket they made me buy?"

I am certain my advisors, in a frustrated huff, would eventually give up on me.
"Madame Premier, there is an angry mob of environmental activists outside, challenging your decision about the oil sands."
"What? Ok, um...just give them a snack...Who doesn't love a snack??  Run out and grab some Tang and Timbits; economical yet patriotic, what more can you ask of me?" 
"But Madame Premier, there is one particularly irate person who is refusing to calm down unless you agree to meet with him."
"Hmmm...okay fine, let him in, but tell him to try going to the bathroom first. That's probably what his real problem is.  A lot can be solved with a trip to the bathroom."

My first act as Premier would be to pass legislation for all teenage boys to pull their pants up.

Ms. Redford, Ms. Smith, I wish you luck.  I have a feeling that scratchy suits and binding nylons may be the least of your challenges...