My apologies to the Cheers theme.
I opined, recently, that I wouldn’t be surprised if the president couldn’t easily name his grandchildren.
Perhaps that seems far-fetched.
Maybe, one would think “no, no matter how horrible he is, what grandfather wouldn’t know the names of his own grandkids?”
Sadly, I have experienced this level of narcissism.
My second husband wasn’t a grandiose, screaming bully. He was a quiet narcissist.
I didn’t know about malignant narcissism when we dated. If I had known then what I know now, I’d have no trouble identifying his brokenness.
Like the first time I met his younger brother and his family.
His younger brother lived less than 20 minutes from my ex. They saw each other often. When we were on the way to visit, I asked about his two nieces and a nephew.
He could only tell me the oldest girl’s name and had no idea what his nephew’s and younger niece’s names.
I remember finding his complete lack of interest in the actual names of his flesh and blood relatives odd.
That I didn’t run away screaming right then and there tells you of my decision making skills at the time. Well, maybe not that exact second because I was in a moving car.
My second husband didn’t bother himself with learning their names because they were meaningless to him.
They did nothing to further his fucked up narrative.
At the time, I didn’t consider that he didn’t know their names because he was a broken monster with no empathy and a sadistic streak.
I just thought it was a cute little quirk. Just typing that made me gag a little.
Back to the present, the president doesn’t like animals.
He has no idea at all how to relate to children. They just aren’t important to him.
So yeah, I think it would hilarious if a reporter asked him to name his grandchildren in order by age.
Bet he couldn’t do it.
Photo courtesy of free photos.