Rock-a-bye, Baby

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Even though I am well aware that none of my messages will ever reach L’il Don, I still get a lot of entertainment writing messages to him on Whitehouse.gov.  Here’s what one of his office staff will read today:

Little Donny,

How’s my little man? Are you still having fun playing president? Lately, you don’t look very happy and that has me worried. I know you’re not colicky, because the White House staff has informed me that you have been getting up each morning and putting on your big boy suit all by yourself! So why are you glum? Is it because the game of “president” isn’t what you thought it would be? Part of this is my fault: you were so excited about this new game that I didn’t have the heart to tell you that there are other players who will try to make you cry, because that is their role in the game. When you used all of your pawns last week to start sweeping across the game board and arresting immigrants, I don’t think you realized that there were any living people who might be affected by your move. So when they started shouting at you about broken families and pre-dawn raids and all sorts of things that didn’t make any sense to you, you seemed a bit startled. I know you don’t want to hear this, Sport, but you inadvertently upset a lot of people. They are mad at you. And now it is their move, so brace yourself for some backlash and try to keep a stiff upper lip.

Also, I notice that you’ve been retreating to your playpen at Mar-a-Lago an awful lot lately. I know you need time to play and nap and work on your motor skills with your zoo animal mobile, but one of the rules of the president game is that you have to be at the White House and study the game’s rule book. This, too, is partly my fault. When I would try to read to you from the presidential rule book as you drifted off to fairy land, you always fussed and complained that it was a bad bedtime story. I humored you once too often in those sleepy nights leading up to the game. More often than not, your tear-stained little eyes were so heartbreaking that I set the rule book down and read to you from your favorite collection of My Little Pony readers. I think I may have done you a big disservice in being too weak to see the need for tough love.

So even though I am partially responsible for your current grumpiness and televised temper tantrums, you need to learn from your mistakes, for your own good. I’m afraid I have to put you in a time-out. Please go sit in your high chair and just sit there and think about what you’ve done wrong. I promise, later I will come to see you and feed you applesauce, but for now, I just need you to sit there and keep your mouth shut, Pookums.

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