On the opening night of the 2012 Republican National Convention, the Presidential nominee Mitt Romney received fulsome praise for being a regular, down-to-earth guy from his wife, Ann, whose dressage horse, Rafalca, competed in the London Olympics. Mitt has never let his success go to his head, Mrs. Romney said. Take away the seven-thousand-square-foot house in La Jolla and the bank account in the Caymans, hes still the same fun-loving boy who pinned a gay kid to the ground and cut off his hair. Mrs. Romney adopted an intimate tone as she attempted to describe the Mitt only I know. Every now and then, Mitt will give me this devilish smile of his, and I know that can only mean one thing, she said, flushing slightly. He just fired someone. In a small flub that many delegates found endearing, Mrs. Romney said, Mitt Romney is like you or mehe puts his pants on one leg at a time. Oh, wait. He has a fellow who does that for him. My bad. But the nominees wife brought the convention audience to its feet with her closing endorsement of her husband: I promise you that if you elect Mitt President of the United States, he will never give less than thirteen per cent. 