I have never been patient.  I hate standing in line, and the term “waiting tables” used to gag me when I performed the job in grad school.  I never had a second to wait, if I was doing my job.  I ran like a circuit trainer from table to table.  That was okay to me.  I hate waiting.

But I love being a woman. Women like me who love being women (and love the men who love women) have been long oppressed by feminists and fair gamers who imposed their theocratic political correctness on us.  We grew weary of waiting for someone to state the obvious.  We hoped that quietly raising up the next generation would communicate our knowledge that the other side is radically wrong.  It didn’t.

We waited as the statists on the left were silent to the point of complicit in the mutilation, rape and murder of young girls around the world— places with Islamic populations only a few percentage points above our own. We were there when Sandra Fluke’s tawdry demand for free birth control on our dime became the bizarre mascot of the Obama administration.  We watched, and our daughters turned to us with that look any mother knows—the one that pierces your maternal soul– saying, “mom, why aren’t you fighting for me? What are you waiting for?”

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