Dear US Senate,

As a baby, which I am, I have long had considerable interest in the mechanics of “peek-a-boo.” Initially, I thought, “How could this be? The lady is gone, but then she reappears?” I spent many nights projecting mathematical formulas onto the ceiling with my mind, eventually reaching the conclusion that said lady had somehow enlarged a wormhole, slipped through it into another dimension, then returned the same way for my amusement. This delighted me. Needless to say, when the US Senate performed the same maneuver with Roe V. Wade, I thought, “Excellent! Another peek! There is going to be a boo!”

There was no boo.

For months, this inconsistency haunted me. Surely, I thought, such smart, robe-wearing people must grasp the fundamentals of comedy. Where is the punchline? Where have these fellows gone, this “Roe” and this “Wade?” I demand to see them. I demand a boo!

You claim to care about babies, yet make no effort to connect with your target demographic. When I met Justice Amy Coney Barrett at a pro-life rally at which I was paid to be tossed through the crowd like a beach ball, she neither peeked, nor booed –nor even smiled– but leaned in close and said, “Greetings, baby. I’ve heard of others like you.” She then expressed suspicion at my meager size and demanded to know where the rest of me was. In response, I ejected that morning’s feeding onto her face, which partially melted off, and then she did not toss me gently like a beach ball, but punted me into the air like a stray dog. She did not even let me chew her hair, and this upset me most of all.

My question to the US government is as follows: what sort of sick game are you playing? You teach your citizens to expect a “boo,” but dance off into the sunset after “peek?” In the eight months since the disappearance of Roe and Wade, I have spent my days in a deep depression. I neither goo, nor gaa, nor consent to have my heinie powdered, and yet you turn a blind eye to my sorrow. I begin to suspect you are co-opting the struggle of babies as some sort of irreproachable cover for reproachable aims. What aims, you ask? I will tell you: I believe the US government is anti-belly button.

Think about it. Why so much legislation to preserve the pre-buttoner, but none for the care of the buttoned? (These are the terms we will use, since many believe the word “fetus” to be divisive.) It is because our government is engaged in navel warfare. All politicians are ingrained with a vendetta against belly buttons, possibly connected to brain mass or childhood trauma. They spend their days in misery, struggling to reconcile this hatred with their own innies and outies. This is why they always look constipated. They are straining to grow new umbilical cords.

You pre-buttoners who laugh smugly– you, too, will have your day of reckoning. One day, the doctor will put that funny little clamp on you, and you will be ejected into the ranks of the unheeded. We ask you to join us now, for as the Bible says, “All small babies will probably become large someday, for this seemeth logical, and each ‘peek’ shall be succeeded by a ‘boo,’ for so sayeth the Lord, our God.”

Remember who the real enemy is.

In solidarity,

Barron Trump