The Collected Diaries of Donald J. Trump, Vol. 6: “Husky No More”
What I have realized is that many, not all, but many of the children in my class are very unfortunate and also very immature. While it is true that my last name rhymes with “rump” that does not give anyone the right to kick me on my backside while shouting my name wrong. And though they may think to themselves that this is all something to be forgotten what they do not realize is that I am very mature for my age and I will not forget this. I know better than to complain to the teachers, many of whom are not reliable in terms of enforcing rules and punishing other children, so I will just quietly lock myself in my closet with my emergency Baby Ruths and write the names down of the boys I will eventually get back and the girls who I no longer think are pretty enough to be Mrs. Donald J. Trump.
Did you know that if you sneak into your mom’s makeup kit and borrow some of her foundation that it can give your skin a healthy sun-bronzed glow??? I discovered this last night when Mom and Daddy were out at some party and I was home by myself, which I love because I am very interesting to myself, and I was about to begin my “show” which I do when I’m alone and I saw myself in the mirror and I looked pale and then suddenly I figured it out and I look beautiful! Also if you put it on right you don’t have a double chin suddenly!!!!! I watched myself in the big hall mirror doing my show and right during my closing number, “Just in Time” from Bells Are Ringing — great show! was on my feet! — my parents came home and I had to scramble out of my costume and etc. Daddy looked at me strangely the next day. But I know I can be a star. Tomorrow I’m buying tap shoes.
Well, I auditioned for the school play, even though you are technically supposed to be at least in the eighth grade, and guess what?? I got in!!!! I just showed up and did my audition number (“Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?” from My Fair Lady, a superb show!!) and then told them that my dad would probably pay for the whole production, and wow!! I’m in!!!!! And there are some very pretty girls who are also in the play who quite possibly if they play their cards right could be potential Mrs. Donald Trumps!!!!!!!!
This morning while I was trying to tell Dad about the play I sort of couldn’t due to the fact that he was looking at me and listening to me which makes me uncomfortable. Tonight when he’s not listening to me I’ll talk to him.
I can’t call you Kitty anymore. I can’t even write in this diary anymore. Daddy saw it and read what I’ve been writing and is very very angry with me. He says I can’t be in show business and I can’t be a star and I can’t be the showman I know I can be. He is being unfair, as usual, and that’s okay, it really is. I could say that he’s being mean to me, promise that I will try to get good at sports and that I’m trying to play less with my Pokie and Goober stuffed animals — even though there’s nothing wrong with it and lots of boys play with fanciful plush toys, and I have told him many times — and that please please please let me be in the musical, but he’s already called the school and told them I can’t be in the play and is making me take back my tap shoes. He’s being unfair and mean and starting next week I am going to be playing football (ugh!) with the other boys who will probably be very very not nice to me. And next year Dad is talking about military academy to make a man out of me — his words, not mine — and so who knows what will happen next? Oh, Kitty. I am so tired of crying my eyes out wishing Daddy could see me for who I really am. I may not be the boy he dreamed of but I’m not a loser. I’m a winner, Kitty, and one day he’ll see that. I am a star. Wish me luck with the rough boys on the sports team doing sports and next year at military school. What’s to become of me, my dear Kitty??? If I can’t be a Broadway and movie star, what am I good for?????