Happy first birthday, Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (né health care reform bill)!
You’re not perfect and are kinda responsible for getting your birth parents kicked out of the house. I don’t blame you per se; the Democrats were occasionally timid, frequently disorganized, and fundamentally incapable of articulating a message that could be heard loud and clear above the din of the opposition’s bullshit. Be that as it may, you’re here and making my life better.
I no longer have trouble falling asleep or break into a momentary panic — like I occasionally used to do — at the thought that my good health is tied to having the particular job I have now. While it’s true that, unlike your cousins in most other highly developed countries, you don’t do much to reduce the cost that I would have to pay if I lost my job, at least I can count on you (eventually) to prevent me from losing my access to that expensive health care.
What you need now is a sibling. A little law that will help lower the cost of medical care. A bossy, nosy, thrifty, little brother or sister. An enfant terrible, if you will. Don’t worry, no matter how successful she or he is, you’ll always be the one we love more. You’ll be the prodigal son.
If only I could make laws the way my cousins make babies. . . .