Greeting

Dear, Sweet, Wonderful First Lady,

Oh, my stars! I hope this letter finds you amidst a serene moment, perhaps with a cup of chamomile and a quiet corner, because the Capitol halls, my dear, are currently echoing with something less than harmonious. It seems a certain situation has unfurled, much like a confused flag in a strong wind, and frankly, my teacup is rattling with concern.

The Situation: A Capitol Caper of Evasion!

You see, our beloved President Trump recently made a rather... spirited comment regarding the passing of Hollywood icon Rob Reiner and his dear wife, Michele. And bless his heart, the internet, as it often does, reacted with the collective gasp of a thousand opera singers realizing they’ve missed their cue. It was quite the digital kerfuffle.

Then, the spotlight swung to House Speaker Mike Johnson, who was cornered by intrepid reporters, particularly CNN's Manu Raju. They asked the Speaker if he would, you know, comment on the President’s rather unconventional remarks. One might have expected a clear-as-a-bell response, perhaps a gentle nod towards decorum, but oh no, my dear First Lady, that would have been far too pedestrian!

Instead, Speaker Johnson pulled what can only be described as the "invisible elephant in the room" maneuver. He declared, with the gravitas of a man explaining the secret to a perfect soufflé, that he "doesn’t do ongoing commentary about everything that’s said by everybody in government every day."

Now, I don't know about you, but that sounds suspiciously like a philosophical quest rather than a direct answer! Mr. Raju, bless his persistence, gently reminded the Speaker that, well, they do talk about the President every day. It was a moment that could have been scored by a kazoo solo, I tell you!

The Speaker then pivoted faster than a prima ballerina on roller skates, mentioning important votes and bringing down healthcare costs. While these are certainly noble pursuits, the sudden subject change felt less like a smooth transition and more like a squirrel attempting to cross a busy highway.

He waved away suggestions that other Republicans were displeased, giving a vague "I gave commentary this morning" before attempting a dramatic exit, like a magician disappearing behind a smoke screen, only to reappear slightly further down the hall. It’s clear he knew the comments were a touch, shall we say, un-presidential, but holding His Excellency accountable? That’s apparently a bridge too far.

Dear, Please Help: A Presidential Palate Cleanser!

Now, my dear First Lady, this is where you, with your unparalleled grace and knack for turning potential diplomatic disasters into delightful diversions, come in. The President, bless his fiery spirit, sometimes needs a gentle guiding hand, perhaps a metaphorical leash made of silk rather than steel.

Perhaps a well-placed plate of his favorite cookies, delivered with a twinkle in your eye and a subtle suggestion to "maybe just... think about tweeting a little less after late-night news cycles"? Or perhaps a carefully curated list of calming activities: a round of golf (no phones!), a vigorous game of charades, or even a soothing audiobook of the history of the world's most peaceful gardens.

And for Speaker Johnson? Oh, the poor man! He seems to be caught in a perpetual game of political dodgeball. Maybe you could send him a small, framed sign for his office: "What would FLOTUS do?" or "The Art of the Gentle but Firm Condemnation." It’s worth a try, isn’t it?