Dear First Lady of the United States Michelle Obama,

Allow me to introduce myself; I am a twenty-something male in college. Recently it has come to my attention that you did an interview with Jimmy Fallon in which you made a sales pitch to young men and women on behalf of the president’s titular health insurance law.

It is understandable that you would be in the front line of efforts to recruit as many young and healthy people into this massive Rube Goldberg contraption of Brobdinganian proportions, but I must take exception at some insinuations you made about my oft stereotyped demographic.

Firstly, It does seem odd that the generation which is single handedly responsible for the greatest expansion of U.S. debt to be calling any other generation “knuckleheads”. Yes, I will admit I have said YOLO once or twice to my considerable shame, but at least my finances are in order. And though there is a bit of a student debt problem among my fellow alumni, you must know perfectly well that most of our collective debt does not come from our degrees.

But I digress.

Let us get to the essence of the matter. The reason you are beseeching us to sign up is because you need us. It is easy to pretend that our bar stool-dancing and our unrefined kitchen skills make us as likely to hurt ourselves as a herd of lemmings. The reality is that we are healthier, and need less medical attention than other groups. So you need one of the poorest (and healthiest) groups in the nation to help subsidize older, presumably less knuckleheaded folks.

And as for the concept of staying on our parent’s insurance, that’s nice, but really we just want those jobs the administration has been promising for the better part of a decade so that we can pay for our own coverage. If we want to.

So please, I know you are not suddenly going to advocate for repeal, but at least take us a bit more seriously. We are not just some impressionable group of basement dwellers who crave free insurance from the government. We want our fair shake.

I would write a bit more on the subject but there is a certain bar stool downtown which is in serious need of a dancing twenty-something,

My Most Sincere Regards,

Disgruntled Knucklehead