There are many legitimate deaths to mourn here in the twilight of 2016 — reason, civility, the future of the Republic — but I felt none so sharply this week as the snuffing of my last hope for delight in the White House over the next four years. After everything women and those without a Pepe-infused sense of humor have lost, now we won’t even get the glorious spectacle of a full-time FLOTUS with the Mostess ruling the East Wing with a pavé crystal fist.

Barack Obama’s administration was a cultural two-fer: Along with a cool president, we got a funny, gracious, intelligent, down-to-earth, accomplished executive for a first lady. Michelle Obama is the kind of woman who’ll karaoke with you on your birthday and hand-pick a good novel for your present, give you grad school application tips in one breath and the name of a resilient heirloom tomato in the next. We didn’t deserve her, and she will be missed.

America is ready for a change, we have been told, and so we are installing a spiritually bankrupt reality TV producer in the Oval Office, along with his Cabinet of Horrors. A Donald Trump presidency does not promise much on the shits-and-giggles front, but the infinite comedic possibilities of Melania Trump in official first lady duties? That has kept me going since November 9.

But hold off on that bulk order of “obligatory bootie scrubs,” because it looks very likely that Ivanka is installing herself as First Lady-Daughter instead.

First we heard that Melania and young master Barron would return to the gilded tower after the inauguration. Still, it’s a reasonable commute. But this week we learned Donald’s eldest daughter Ivanka would be taking a leave of absence from the Trump Organization — leaving the other two McPoyles in charge of the family coffers — in what the New York Times calls “the surest sign” that Ivanka and her husband Jared Kushner are going to move to D.C. and become the bland ceremonial faces of the Trump administration.

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