Mommy? Before you turn off the lights, can you look under my bed and make sure Donald Trump isn’t under there? I can’t go to sleep until I know he isn’t under my bed. I have a bad feeling about it, and I think Donald Trump is under there and he’s very scary, possibly the scariest man. I’m a big girl- I’m not scared of imaginary monsters. I’m only scared of very real monsters. I keep imagining his pale hairy knuckled hand reaching up over the edge of the bed. Can you please just check?

And Mommy? Can you also look in the closet? Pretty please just check in the closet for the billionaire Donald Trump? It’s a big long closet, definitely tall enough to fit Donald Trump behind all my clothes and toys. What if you leave and he is under my bed? I’m scared I’ll get up to get a glass of water and he’ll grab onto my ankle and drag me by my hair to Trump Tower. I’m scared he’ll scream at me until dawn about immigration. What if Donald Trump is under my bed, Mommy? I’m scared he’ll make me vote Republican, or worse, for him.

Mommy, please just check under the bed, and in the closet, and while you’re at it, can you look in the bathroom? Behind the shower curtain? That would be a very scary place to find Donald Trump. What if I have to peepee in the middle of the night and Donald Trump comes out of the potty?  Are we sure he can’t climb up through the sewer, weasel into the plumbing, and pop out into my toilet like a rat?

Mommy please! Please check under my bed for Donald Trump! He’s under there I know it. He’s crouching low, his giant mealy body in the darkest corner, lying in wait under my twin sized bed. His face glows in the dark because of the tanner. And he’s coming to get me.

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