Every speed bump for Democrats is a full-blown catastrophe

Parenthood is awesome, but you learn a lot. If you ever had kids in middle school, you know what sustained emotional drama looks like. Everything's fairly placid up until about seventh grade. And then the four horsemen of the adolescent apocalypse arrive: hormones, homework, dating and acne. And things get very volatile, very fast. The main symptom of this period of childhood development, apart from door-slamming, is wild overstatement. No longer is anything okay, or not very good. No. Even the mildest inconvenience is transformed into a horrifying, world-ending disaster. The Titanic meets Vesuvius, plus Y2K. Four minutes late for school is the single worst day of my life ever. Waking up before 9 is like death. A pop quiz in math class? That's the emotional equivalent of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia, except much more upsetting. 

It's pretty intense. Thankfully, most kids get over middle school, those who don't tend to leave home and not come back. They become interpretive dance majors at small, liberal arts colleges, or they run for Congress. Ever wonder why America's traditional party of the unionized working man suddenly sounds like a van full of eighth grade girls on the way to prom, all breathy and on the verge of tears? Well, it's simple. Because at this point, that's pretty much exactly what the Democratic Party is. You'll really notice it in the way they speak.