As the Trump presidency bears down on the world, I hope we can all concur on the prospect of being subjected to regular appearances by Donald Trump’s eldest son, Don Jr. Can you stand him, this pissy little Ivy League Uday, whose chin successfully escaped from the rest of his body at some point in the last Trump administration, and whose every political intervention my brain simply translates as “look Daddy – I used the potty!”? If so, please send tips.
There really is no beta like the beta son to the alpha father, and Don Jr embodies the form. He is a full 46 years old, yet forever at hand with the intimation that his dad could beat yours in a fight. It is impossible to watch a single one of Don’s public honkings without imagining his reedy inner voice going: “Did you see it, Dad? Did you see what I said on TV? Dad? Dad? No, OK you’re busy …”
