The National Association of Cosmetic Dentistry has reported that a flurry of new patients have contacted its members to request the “Kelly” smile. No, not Megyn Kelly. That other one. The one who puts the “con” in Conway — Trump’s Leni Riefenstahl.
When asked why they wanted that particular smile, women reported, “Well, did you see her with Chuck Todd on Meet the Press? I’d love to be able to flash a smile like that when I tell my husband I’m going out for a “meeting.” I don’t want him to know about me and Brad. Yes, it’s true that her head nearly exploded during the interview, but she made it out unscathed and now she lives to lie another day. That’s what I want.”
The interior of the Washington home of Kellyanne Conway. Zoom in on the kitchen with its Italian marble countertops, Meiele refrigerator and LaCornue range upon which her Guatemalan maid, Coco, who understands limited English, is cooking dinner.
Kellyanne and two of her sons are sitting in the large alcove off the kitchen, engaged in a heated discussion. Both teens have been suspended from St. Albans for smoking and selling pot to grade-schoolers.
Ben, 16, says, “First off, Mom, you need to calm down. We didn’t do it.” He puts his arm around Charlie, 14, whose face stiffens into a tight smile.
“You mean to tell me that St. Albans suspended you for no reason?” says Kellyanne. “Why would they—?
“You know how it goes, Mom. One day, nobody knows your name; the next you’re famous because of your Mom. People get jealous.”
Kellyanne stares at Ben’s toothy grin.
“Jealous? The nuns are jealous of you?” she says, her voice rising.
“No, Mom, not the nuns, the other kids. Someone planted that dope in our lockers,” says Ben. He gives a squeeze to Charlie’s shoulder.
“Right,” says Charlie, fidgeting under Ben’s arm.
“You’re telling me the pot was not—”
“That’s what happened, Mom, I swear, not us!” Ben tosses up his hands.
“Even if it was ours, no big deal—everyone does it. Would you bust our chops over a few ounces of weed? I don’t think so. You and dad—”
“Oh, no, no, no—” ways Kellyanne, wagging her finger and raising her voice.
“Listen to yourself—you’re being way too dramatic here.”
“Wait til your father—”
“Come on, Mom, he’s cool; you know that.”
“Do you know how serious this is—it could ruin—”
“I take care of Charlie here,” Ben says. “Keep the bullies away, do you know they call him a fag? It takes a lot of my time and energy to protect him, to keep him safe, you and dad aren’t there, you can’t protect him, you saw the bruise he had on his cheek last week, he didn’t fall down. Sorry Charlie, but you didn’t.”
Hunching his shoulders, Charlie puts his hand to his face. “Well, I—”
“Shut up,” says Ben. “That Briden boy did it. He’s always calling you fairy or fag.”
Kellyanne stands up. “I need to know if you—”
“He did, he just kept punching Charlie and the nuns didn’t do anything, so I have to take care of him and every small kid, that’s what I do for him and them, the nuns, I protect all of them, so, dope, or whatever, not that big a thing, really blown all out of proportion compared to all the good things I’ve done for them, carry their books, help clean their classrooms and I’m going to keep doing it, they can look forward to more help, even better help, you know—”
“You haven’t answered my question—” Kellyanne starts pacing.
“That’s the problem these days no one wants to give young people a chance, think we’re all delinquents, when we’re not, right Charlie? I think the more important thing is what Charlie and I do for the school.
“You always taught us to be responsible, that we had a responsibility to the little people, didn’t you say that? Like the scholarship kids, if they fall down and ruin their uniforms, repair and replace would cost their parents a lot of money, we protect them so they don’t have to do that.”
“You still haven’t answered my —”
“You did, you know you did, and here we are the best sons you could ever have, and we’re getting our balls busted over this, it’s an outrage, so many parents would love to have good sons like us, you should appreciate us more, reward us more for all the great things we’ve done and plan to do and it all reflects well on you and dad.”
“You’re being ridiculous and you still haven’t answered—”
“Oh, so now I’m ridiculous?” says Ben, pointing his finger at his Mom. “Look. You’ve got to consider the alternative facts here.”
“Alternative facts? What are you talking about, alternative facts? You mean falsehoods, don’t you?”
Coco finishes wiping down the counters in the kitchen and walks slowly toward the alcove.
“Miss Kelly?” she says, “¿Necesitas algo más?”
“No, Coco, that’s all,” Kellyanne says. “Thank you.”
She turns to Ben, shaking her head. “Wipe that sick smile off your face, Mister. We’re not done here.”
Rosie Sorenson of Richmond, Calif., is humor columnist for the Foolish Times whose work has appeared in many publications as well as popular anthologies. Email RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com.
From The Progressive Populist, March 1, 2017
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