I want my Donald back

I don't have to worry about him any  more.

I don't have to wonder what's going to happen next.  I don't have to listen to him harangue about stop lights and buses and cops giving out speeding tickets.  I don't have to buy food to fit the flavorless restrictions he had to live with, or go to the bookstore and not have time to look at books for me because he needed me to pick up the books he couldn't bend over to reach.  I don't have to spend gas and time running to a hospital 25 miles from my home and work.

I don't care.  I just want my Donald back.

I want my baby back.

I want him back.