There was an interesting article in the San Francisco Chronicle this week that you might have missed if you were doing something more important than reading the San Francisco Chronicle, like squeezing that pimple between your eyes until blood and pus poured down the front of your face.

And you spent the rest of the morning taking pictures of yourself, smeared in gore with your tongues sticking out sideways and sending the selfies to all your friends with a message saying, look, I'm in the new sequel to Night of the Living Dead laughter emoji.

The article was written by Arella Cook-Shancoff, a child therapist and art therapist based

in Berkeley, California. And I was going to make a joke about that, but how much

funnier could he get?

Her article is entitled, How to Talk to Your Kids, about Donald Trump's election.

The article begins with this advice, and so help me, this is a genuine quote.

Before engaging with kiddos, give yourself some space to grieve, hug someone close, walk in the woods, sit on a beach, cry under a blanket, check your pulse. Are you feeling heated, reactive, or in the

throes of despair? If so, delay the conversation, unquote.

Now look, I know Democrats are genuinely suffering after Donald Trump particleized their every hope and dream of destroying our freedoms.

And I don't like to take pleasure in the emotional pain of others,

unless the emotional pain of others tastes like caramel swirl ice cream,

melted into a sugary liquid and then

poured over the naked body of Anna Diarmaz so that she and it can be drunk down whole like a shot

of tequila in a Tijuana bar, knocked back in a single gulp at three in the morning after being

poured over the naked body of Anna Diomouse. So let's try to imagine how Berkeley child art therapist Ariela hyphen name

wants us to break the Trump news to our kids. After sobbing under a blanket and taking your

pulse, approach your child slowly with the blanket still over your head, leaving visible only

your grafrapped face with chaotic streaks of

mascara that transform it into an almost perfect image of a vampire raccoon that might be waiting

under the bed to jump out at your child at any moment.

Tenderly sit your son down in the crinkling folds of his crinoline party gown and gently

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