The mysterious, oft-disappearing FLOTUS fantasizes about being a good mom, and realizes the answer is just outside the sinkhole: don't be like Donald.
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Hello Peasants, it’s me, Melania. Have you heard of my new initiative to help America’s children be best? It is called Be Best. Why did I name it that? Because best is good, yes? But what does “best” mean? I’ve always thought it meant winning no matter who or what you destroy on your way to Bestdom, like in the feel-good romp, The Hunger Games. But here in my sinkhole, where I come to relax and dream, I ask myself, “What is best? And how do I, and America’s children, be it?”
I love my sinkholes. I am lucky to have two. One at the Northern White House and one at the Southern White House. You just have to watch out for alligators in the Southern White House sinkhole. They chomp. Perhaps I love my sinkholes because they remind me of the quiet life I lived before. The life I long for. When I could spend my days Champagne-lunching and staring into chandeliers for hours without someone asking me to co-sign death warrants for toddlers with lymphoma. When I could spend my nights soaking my feet in orchid milk and snorting caviar off my butler’s wrist, far, far away from Mike Pence’s cornflake farts. Simpler times. I would give anything to be back there, but I can’t. We can’t be back, we can only be best.
In my secret sinkhole quest for the real best, I have written the Be Best Parenting Handbook. Talk about a literal underground zine, I wrote mine in a sinkhole—what’s more underground than that, hipsters? Slim, sleek, and filled with dismal inspiration, the Be Best Parenting Handbook fits into most kitten-skin fanny-packs and my favorite style of clutch: a gutted baby otter with a platinum zipper sewn into its belly. Read it while you’re recovering from a voluntary cosmetic surgery that involved implanting a sick orphan’s chic eyebrows onto your forehead.
I used to think of children as dolls that can walk. That you should raise little girls to be pretty and polite like American Girl doll, Samantha, and little boys to be sassy and resourceful like American Boy Horror doll, Chuckie. But I learned they are not dolls, they are little humans who hate or are wary of my husband, and I’m with them. They are our future and let me just say, “Future so best, gotta wear shades.”
Here are some top tips from my Be Best Parenting Handbook:
Be Pepsi: Protest My Husband as a Family
I loved Kendall Jenner’s Pepsi commercial, I wish I lived inside of it. I would love to be a trendy resister with glowing skin and a reason to smile. Picture me, a single Brooklyn mom. I own a simple vegan chowder shop. I live above the shop with my gentle son. We play in Prospect Park and protest my husband on the weekends. My son’s poster says: “My Mommy, My Choice! I Choose Mommy!” Sounds so peaceful. Getting your family together to protest my husband will make your bond stronger. Your values will get clearer and you will all relieve stress by screaming in the streets about how my husband should be in prison. You and your children will sleep soundly after all the street-screaming, and, is it okay if I sleep over? This sounds so nice.
Even Little Shits Don’t Want To Be Like My Husband
Even some of the worst-behaved asshole-kids on the block don’t want to be like my husband. If you have a mini-gargoyle acting up, just use my husband as the bogeyman example that will scare your child straight. If your child is bullying or lying or being a dick in any way, just Be Best and Carry On. Casually crouch down to their tiny level and say, “Hey. You know who behaves like that? Can you guess?” Watch them reach for the answer, the little wheels turning in their still-developing brains. Then just say it:. “Donald Trump.” And just like that, you will see the tears start to well up. The tears of recognition. The little twerp’s internal guidance system alerting them that they would not like to end up like the monster you just mentioned. Watch the genuine apologies and newfound devotion to community service flow. See the little jerk go through a midlife crisis in 30 seconds. See them re-prioritize their life based on the fear of what they might become. Don’t be afraid to use this scare tactic on the meanest kids who are giving you the most grief. It will help them be less like my husband and that will benefit humanity.
My Husband Is a Good, Clear Example of Trash
Some sweet kids are less vocal about their feelings regarding my husband, and that’s okay because they still don’t like him in their own special way. They aren’t talking about him, but they just KNOW he is evil trash. With this type of kid, you can use a subtle reference to my husband. If a good kid is doing something annoying, like repeatedly pointing their finger in your face or making fun of the neighborhood cat that has three legs, say something like, “Classic Trump move.” They will be offended and this is good. They will start to question their life choices and make better ones. They will name the cat with three legs Tripod Hero and safely throw it cat treats from a distance. See how simple this is?
Encourage Kids to Express Their Hatred of My Husband Via Art
There are many children making art about having a problem with my husband and your kid should too. There is an 11-year-old child named Nate who draws anti-my husband cartoons and it is my favorite thing. Older, very cool kids are writing and performing slam poetry pointing out the evil my husband perpetuates. Even big kids like Jim Carrey are having a ball ripping my husband to shreds via art. So give your children 50 shades of orange crayons and some graph paper and see what they come up with. You could end up raising a little Banksy! I wonder what his parents were like??
My Husband’s Tantrums Are a Tool
Even the sweetest children are selfish devils sometimes, but my husband is a selfish devil all the time, and you as the parent can use this as leverage. My husband’s fits make Veruca Salt’s seem very reasonable. I doubt even Veruca would make Roseanne’s firing about her. If your child is mid-meltdown, screaming at another child, demanding they surrender their Pop-Tart, or screaming into the abyss, demanding a pop dart, a thing that doesn’t exist, catch them in between screams and remind them that only big, leathery, orange babies scream this way. This will be shocking to the child. Another scared-straight moment brought to you by my terrible husband. They will envision themselves older, oranger, looking like a bloated leather bag. This will help the child take a deep breath and try to not be an asshole, which is really every parent’s goal at the end of the day, isn’t it?
Thank you for spending time with me, here in my sinkhole. I hoped you learned how to be a bester parent. I will be hosting an underground book- signing in soon, and will be blinking the information for that in morse code, so do pay attention to my eyelashes in the months ahead.
Have a Best Day,
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