President Donald J. TRUMP
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
Washington DC 20500
Dear President TRUMP,
I want to be the first to tell you: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope yours went better than mine.
The night before Thanksgiving, my wife Viola started the problem when she said, “Carl, I want you to promise me—not one word about politics when family comes.”
“Viola,” I said. “I’ll be quiet as Bob Mueller at an FBI cocktail party! By the way, who’s coming?”
“I’m so excited,” Viola said. “Remember last Thanksgiving when Bunny said she’d never speak to you again? Well, she told me she’s willing to give old dad another chance if you promise to be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” I said. “Just because I think we have to keep the Mexican rapists and murderers out of our country doesn’t mean…”
Viola interrupted. “Carl! That’s what I’m talking about! Don’t say that stuff! Just talk about the weather!”
“No problem,” I said. “Did you hear they’re having record cold on the east coast? So much for global warming!”
“I take it back,” said Viola. “Just carve the turkey and keep your mouth shut. Also, Bunny is bringing her partner, Mandalita.”
“Mandalita? What kind of man would be named Mandalita?”
“I don’t know,” said Viola. “But Bunny’s Mandalita is a woman. Mandalita Gonzalez. She’s Bunny’s new wife.”
I’m sure you’re feeling my pain. Imagine how you’d feel if Melania told you to shut up and carve the turkey when Don Jr. was bringing home his new African-American husband!
Also, Viola said her brother Ruben Steinmetz and his wife Shirley would be coming. I never told you this but Viola and I have a mixed marriage. Remember when I told you my great great grandfather, Rolando Estrada, fought in the Alamo? On Santa Ana’s side? I’m 5th generation Mexican-American and Viola is Jewish. Just like Jared and Ivanka!
Except Ivanka’s not Mexican, is she?
Maybe we’re more like you and Melania. I know, I know! Melania’s not Mexican and I don’t think you’re Jewish. But still….You and Melania prove one thing: You can overcome all kinds of differences when there’s love!
Also, Viola told me our grandson Lester would be coming. He’s 18 now. Lester collects autographed photos of all his favorite stars. He’s got one of George W. Bush. He’s got one of Dick Cheney. He’s even got one of Sarah Palin. But he still doesn’t have one of you. Could you please send Lester an autographed picture? You’re his favorite strongman leader! He likes you even better than Kim Jong-Un!
Anyway, Ruben and Shirley arrived first, and for a while I thought everything was going fine. Viola was bustling around the kitchen, and there wasn’t much for me to do but cut the turkey and pour the wine. I heard Ruben’s loud voice in the living room, laughing with Shirley and shouting at the football game. Lester was his usual self, slouched in a corner, doing God-knows-what on his iPhone.
I was just finishing another glass of wine when my daughter Bunny came in the kitchen.
“Dad,” she said, “I want you to meet my wife, Mandalita.”
I wiped the turkey grease off my hands, drained my glass, and shook her hand. “Glad to meet you, Mandalita,” I said. She was smiling, petite like a pixie and pretty—in a brown-skinned Tinker Bell sort of way.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said.
“Carl...” I heard Viola do her low growl.
“Very nice to meet you, Mr. Estrada,” Mandalita said. “What would you like to ask me?”
“Does someone you know have cancer?”
“Carl!” It was Viola again. This time it was more of a bark.
“The reason I ask is, your hair is so short, I think you must have cut it to support someone who…”
“Dad!” This time it was Bunny.
“That’s okay, Bunny,” said Mandalita. “I’ve got this. Mr. Estrada, the reason I cut my hair so short is because it feels so comfortable.
“Also,” she added, “Bunny thinks it’s sexy.” She and Bunny both started giggling.
“DINNER TIME!” Viola shouted. She blew by me with the turkey and almost knocked me over.
We all sat down to dinner, and as is our custom, we went around the table with each person saying what they were thankful for. When it was my turn, I poured myself another glass of wine and said this:
“I’m thankful for our tremendous president, Donald TRUMP! He’s made such a tremendous difference in this country! He’s made our country so much stronger! Nobody knows this, but we’re so much stronger now! Tremendously stronger! Nobody knows how tremendously stronger we are! He’s made a tremendous difference! If only the 9th Circuit Court would get out of the way and….”
“Ok, everybody, dig in!” Viola announced.
After that, things got a little testy. Here’s how our dinner conversation went:
RUBEN: You’re right about one thing, Carl. Nobody knows how tremendous Trump is. Nobody!
ME: I do. And nearly 40% of the country does, too.
BUNNY: Oh, you mean the basket of deplorables, Dad? You mean the Sean Hannity/David Duke/neo-Nazi/South African White Genocide/conspiracy theory/padded cell/wing-nut wing of our country?
ME: Sean Hannity?! Basket of deplorables?! I’ll have you know, young lady, that none other than Steve Bannon said Sean Hannity is the ‘single most important voice for the deplorables!’ Hannity tells 13.5 million deplorables every night how to think about the caravan, the 2nd Amendment, and kneeling football players! And one of those 13.5 million deplorables is our president!
BUNNY: I rest my case.
VIOLA: So, Mandalita, how’s your family?
MANDALITA: Not so well, Mrs. Estrada. My father just got deported and I’m terribly worried my mother will be next.
ME (pouring another glass of wine): I’m sorry about your dad, Mandalita. I assume he’s a good person. But the U.S. has become a dumping ground for everybody else’s problems! Everybody knows they’re sending terrorists from the Middle East! And Obama was one of them! Him and the George Soros funded libtards….
RUBEN: “So, Carl… What do you think of the Mueller investigation?”
ME: Witch hunt!
RUBEN (downing his glass): Meaning 191 criminal counts and 35 people and entities charged? Meaning George Papadopoulus, Paul Manafort, Rick Gates, Michael Flynn, Michael Cohen, and 12 Russian military intelligence officers are all witches?
LESTER (still buried in his iPhone): Ivanka’s a witch. She never even sent me an autographed picture.
SHIRLEY: And now Ivanka’s emails….
RUBEN: Not to mention Kushner, who’s probably going to get indicted….
ME (finishing my glass and pouring another): How can you attack Kushner? He’s a member of your tribe! And Ivanka’s converted too!
RUBEN (pouring another): I can’t believe you’d go there! Don’t you have any…..
ME (gulping my wine): Everybody knows Ivanka’s and Hillary’s emails are completely different! Ivanka’s emails were very innocent! Very innocent! Ivanka’s emails were so innocent! Hillary deleted 33,000 emails after she got subpoenaed. Probably closer to 100,000! Probably a million! LOCK HER UP! LOCK HER UP! LOCK HER UP!
RUBEN (taking a swig): I’ll tell you who they ought to be locking up, Carl. They ought to be locking up the Saudi Crown Prince for ordering the torture and murder of the journalist, Khashoggi! But no! Your guy defends him because the Saudis have millions of bucks tied up in Trump businesses!
ME: Oh yeah? I’ll tell you who they ought to be torturing and murdering is that CNN guy, Jim Acosta! I’ve never seen anyone so disrespectful in my life! Viola, my glass is half empty! Open another bottle!
VIOLA: You’ve had enough, Carl.
RUBEN: I’ll open that bottle for you, Carl. That’s the difference between me and you. My glass is half full; yours is half empty. (He pours.) Like your brain. You’re calling Acosta disrespectful?! How ‘bout this: ‘Horseface, pigs, slobs, shithole countries, bleeding from her eyes or wherever, grab ‘em by the pussy!’
ME: LOSER! STUPID! DUMMY! LOW IQ!!!
RUBEN: EGOCENTRIC, NARCISSISTIC, PATHOLOGICAL BLOWHARD!!!
ME: I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I???!!!
BUNNY (grabbing Mandalita’s arm): I think it’s time to leave.
RUBEN: Us too. C’mon Shirley, let’s go. Goodbye Viola. I’ll call you when Trump’s impeached.
ME: But we haven’t had pumpkin pie yet.
And so ended another Thanksgiving. Everyone was gone except Lester who stayed to play video games in the basement.
And, of course, Viola. She stayed downstairs long enough to tell me I’d be sleeping on the couch for a while. Then she went up to bed.
All in all, I’d say it was a tremendous Thanksgiving. Very tremendous. I would—look, I hate to do it, I would give it an A+. Is that enough? Can I go higher than that?