Send in the moms to fix presidential race



I f only this could happen in the GOP presidential race … “This session of the Mommy Tribunal will now come to order. Bring in the defendant.”

An older man with unusual hair is led in.

“State your name.”

“Donald J. Trump, and I demand to know what’s going on here. I’m told I’m going to a rally, I show up and three Amazons knock me down and throw these cuffs on me. It’s outrageous. I’m gonna sue. Who’s in charge here?”

“We’re in charge,” says a stern-looking middle-age woman wearing a judge’s robe and holding a giant wooden spoon for a gavel. She is flanked by two equally stern-looking women. “We’ve always been in charge, and you are in big trouble, mister.”

“Trouble? What? What’d I do?”

“Don’t you pull that Mr. Innocent act on us, young man. You know very well what you’ve done.”

“Young man? I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Silence! Don’t make me use this spoon on you because, so help me, I will. You stand accused of habitual lying, outrageous name-calling, inciting to riot and general all-around potty mouthery. How do you plead?”

“Plead? What is this, a joke?”

“Don’t talk back to us or we’ll wash your mouth out with soap! We are the Mommy Tribunal, the judicial arm of the International Order of Moms, a secret organization that connects moms everywhere and enforces a society-wide code of conduct — we know all, we see all and we correct all. Typically, we stay out of politics because politicians usually behave like adults, but that was until you decided to run.”

“I’m a maverick, what can I say?”

“Wipe that smirk off your face, young man, or I’ll wipe it off for you. You’re grounded until further notice!”

“Grounded? What am I, four?” “You’re acting like it! So until you act your age we’ll give you some time to think about your actions.”

“Aw, c’mon, what’d I do that was so horrible?”

“Well, for starters, you call your opponents names and make fun of their appearance and personalities.”

“But they do it, too!”

“Does that make it right? If they jumped off a bridge, does that mean you should, too? Does it? Look at me when I’m talking to you, young man!”

“No, ma’am.”

“That’s better. And just because some people at your rallies don’t agree with your viewpoint, does that mean you should tell your supporters to punch them?”

“No, ma’am.”

“And how about the way you talk about Muslims, Mexicans, blacks and women? How do you think that makes them feel?”

“Probably not very good, ma’am.”

“And how about all the constant lying and bending of the truth, do you think that’s a good idea? What kind of a world would this be if we all went around lying about everything and everybody all the time?”

“Hey, I usually say maybe.”

“Donald John Trump!”

“OK, OK, sorry. I shouldn’t do that, either.”

“You know what upsets us the most? It’s that we know you’re better than this. Your mother didn’t raise you this way. Imagine how she’d feel. Don’t you think she’d be disappointed in you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I suppose she would. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“We’re glad to hear that, but you’re still grounded.”

“Aw, c’mon, I said I’m sorry.”

“Not half as sorry as you’re going to be when your father gets home.”

Andrew Heller is an award-winning columnist from Grand Blanc. He can be reached at

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