When I was 9, there was this boy I liked, and I was so overwhelmed with these feelings that I used every opportunity to talk about him. The tenor of the discussion was almost always very negative because I didn’t want anybody to know how I felt. I persecuted everybody with stories of how mean, ugly, stupid and hopeless this boy was.
I grew up since then and now express my feelings in more productive way. But I remember those times when I see people for whom absolutely everything that happens is a reason to mention Trump.
“Nice weather today!”
“Yes. Of course, it’s a result of global warming that Trump is making irreversible.”
“Look at these Halloween decorations! They are spooky!”
“Well, I find few things as scary as Trump, to be honest.”
“Is that a new coat you are wearing? I love it .”
“I was so distraught over Trump’s latest antics that I had to do something nice for myself, so just went and bought it. I have no idea how I’ll pay for it but with all that Trump is doing to hasten global warming, we’ll probably all be dead soon anyway.”
It takes all I’ve got not to respond with “Trump and you were sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”