My fellow Americans, I’d like to briefly explain how I chose my running mate.

I began with a short list of candidates who would offer geographical balance, political cover and would do the dishes even when they included the pot for the macaroni and cheese that has been stuck in the sink since Tuesday.

I wanted someone who could — if needed — step into my shoes even though they are three sizes bigger and probably need new soles and maybe new heels.

I needed someone who would, when I took the high road, take the low road and still get to the movie theater without being too late for the 7 o’clock showing so I don’t miss the previews, which is my favorite part.

For a running mate, I needed someone who could run even more slowly than I do but wouldn’t complain as much about knees hurting or hips aching. I wanted someone who wouldn’t talk while we were running so I wouldn’t have to talk back, thus using the last of my limited breathing power.

I also, frankly, preferred not to have someone who wore head or wrist bands while running, even if they are pretty useful and our European allies are 100 percent behind them, because they look so dorky.

But that wasn’t a deal-breaker if I could find someone who would agree with me on the basic, bedrock issues — what’s the greatest movie of all time (“Casablanca”) and why French fries are the perfect vegetable.

I wanted someone who offered philosophical equilibrium, someone who was a yin to my yang, an apple to my orange, a head to my toe. In other words, I very much wanted someone who was my complete opposite but in other ways was exactly like me and would be willing to share the last Twizzler.

I know that some pundits had been urging me to choose a new face, but I must tell you, my fellow Americans, that I am firmly opposed to plastic surgery. I’m also, as it turns out, not that much in favor of old faces, mainly because they remind me that next year will be my 50th anniversary high school reunion year.

The choice came down to a number of worthy candidates, but ultimately I decided that the most important quality that a running mate should have is not, in fact, the ability to do my job if I am not there.

It is to do my job actually if I am there, particularly if that means I can take a little nap instead of having to mop the bathroom or mow the lawn.

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