Barack: “Michelle, look what I inherited now.  Look at these damn embarrassing photos!”

Barack: “Honey, it’s not funny.”

Michelle: “Oh Barack, stop taking yourself so seriously.”

Barack: Seriously?  This place is infested with bees, flies and rats.”

Michelle: “Well honey, you knew about the latter . . . you brought them with you.”

Barack: “You know, I’m not in the mood for a play on words.”

Michelle:  “Well, I just think you have to lighten-up a bit.”

Barack:  “Look at this one . . .  me with a fly on my lip.  It’s enough to make one stutter while reading the teleprompter.  And this one in the Rose garden with a rat running in front of my podium.  This is the White House, not some ACORN office in Chicago.  Soon, I won’t be able to hold a press conference in the Rose Garden for all the damn bees.”

Michelle: “Barack, you certainly aren’t going to blame George W. Bush for this one?”

Barack: “Why not, if he can take the blame for the breakup of Al and Tipper Gore, he can take the blame for the infestation of all of these varmints.  He probably brought them up here from Texas.”