It is that wonderful Thursday in November, when families across America give thanks for the bounty that is theirs, the joys of family and the beginning of the season of giving.

And, as we look inside the White House, the Trump family is gathering for the feast to come.

The table is prepared with place settings for all who will join the First Family in their celebrations.

Ivanka catches Daddy overseeing everything, walking in just as the president is insisting the spoons always go on the right of the plate and the glasses on the left. As the staff looks on in shock, Trump reminds them, he knows more than the chef. “Daddy,” Ivanka whispers, fluttering her eyelids at her father, “Can we talk for a minute? I think I did a Boo Boo.”

The president smiles at his daughter and replies, “Anything, Honey. Is it your product line? I tweeted nasty words to Nordstrom for dropping you and asked the attorney general to investigate if they broke any laws in dropping your shoe line.”

“No, Daddy. It is the fake news. They found out I have been using my private e-mail like Hillary did, and they won’t stop talking about it. They say I broke some stupid law and I could go to jail.”

Trump smiles broadly, “Don’t worry, Ivanka. Those laws aren’t for us. You know, I still use my I phone after the CIA told me the Russians and Chinese are likely listening in on all my conversations. That’s just the fake news. Ignore them.”

The president falls silent for a moment, looks to his aid, and says, “Get the new acting AG over here. I want him to prosecute Hillary, to lock her up. Is everything else OK, Sweetie?”

“No, Daddy. Jared is short about a billion on his New York skyscraper, and he is worried.”
Trump pats Ivanka on her shoulder, “Already took care of that. The Saudis are going to invest a billion to help him out of that mess. We just did them a solid, so they owe us.”

Donald Jr. comes into the dining room, checking if it is time to eat yet, sees his father and Ivanka and joins them. “Hey, Dad, I need to talk to you about the business, got a minute?”

“Sure, son. I hear we are making money hand over fist here in DC at the new hotel. Keep raising the prices, no one cares what the price is, as long as you tell me their country of origin, so they get credit here. What’s on your mind?”

Trump Jr. seems unable to enjoy the rare praise from his father, shrugs, and offers, “Dad, I am having a problem in Trump Tower 3 in Sunny Isles. You know Russians have bought 135 of the 271 condos’ there? Well they want to rename the building ‘Stalingrad Towers.’”

You can see Trump’s anger in his expression as he responds, “That is insane. Naming rights are expensive. You tell the Russians that they have to buy another 30 units before we will even consider that.”

Donald Jr. nods over and over, “OK, Dad, got it. I just…I just wanted to make sure Vladimir wasn’t part of this bunch of guys.”

“Don’t worry about that, son. When Putin wants something from us, he has ways to get in touch with me directly. I will keep you in the loop.”

While Trump Sr. and Jr. were talking, the new acting attorney general, Matthew Whitaker, arrived as summoned by the president. Trump waves him over. “Matt, good to see you. I want Hillary jailed over those e-mails and Comey jailed because he is too tall. Take care of it. By the way, how is our other project going, you know the one, that little investigation?”

Whitaker smiles, “I am all over this, Mr. President. We will delete every last document, interview and record before a word is written.”

Trump nods, smiles, “Great news. Well let’s eat. Where is Melania?”

So, goes Trumpsgiving in 2018.

 

Jim Crawford is a retired educator, political enthusiast and award-winning columnist living here in the Tri-State.