Donald Trump reminds me of my son as a toddler – fortunately, one of them is starting to grow up

This week, in an extraordinary move, Donald Trump invited Republican leaders and lawmakers from Michigan to the White House to see if there was one last loophole in the system, which he could exploit in order to subvert the results of the recent US election. I say an extraordinary move, but it’s not extraordinary at all when you consider who’s making it. If it were any other person in any other world, extraordinary would be a fitting word, but with Trump we have come to realise that nothing is extraordinary.

Ever since American elections have been held, the way it works is that the 538 electoral college voters support the candidate whom the people of their state have elected. This is a formality, and not upholding it would be as preposterous as Boris Johnson ringing up a couple of the returning officers in our general election and trying to convince them to declare that the Conservative candidate had won in a constituency where Labour had been victorious. It just would not happen. People would not let it happen. Yet here we are, reading news stories about how this has happened in the US. Suffice to say, the electoral college representatives said no. Thank goodness.

The problem is that Donald Trump still holds so much sway in the Republican Party due to his popularity that it makes it hard for Republicans to say no to him, disagree with him, and not constantly massage his ego while pandering to his every whim. Despite the fact that he lost the election, he got more votes than any other elected president in history – other than Joe Biden. He is a very popular man, albeit at the same time very unpopular. Much like Marmite, Trump divides. This is often the case with populist “character” politicians.

The thing about being a character is that, good or bad, you stand out from the crowd. Katie Hopkins can shout that bit louder than her fellow Apprentice candidates; Nigel Farage’s faux-outrage is that much more noticeable than his fellow Brexit Party members (in fact, can you even name any of them?); and Jacob Rees-Mogg slumped over the benches in the Commons is way more memorable than that MP from I-forget-where who sits upright and awake in the usual, boring fashion.

I remember (very vaguely, I’m not that old, honest!) when Ronald Reagan was elected as US president and the grown-ups all commenting on how funny it was that an actor was now the ruler of “the free world”. You couldn’t imagine the likes of Michael Caine or Richard Briers in No 10. Funny thing is, though, I don't know how preposterous it would be now. I could almost see Hugh Grant inside No 10 – and not just while watching Love Actually.

Shouting and complaining, mock outrage, dozing in the daytime – these are all the characteristics of a child. There’s a picture I once saw of King Jong-un surrounded by his advisors and they are all laughing. But on closer inspection, you can see the fear in their eyes. They are clearly laughing along with Kim in the hope of appeasing him, much in the same way me and my husband would laugh along with our dictator of a toddler in the hope of swerving a tantrum. “Oh, your biscuit’s broken! Oh no! But oh, look – it’s in the shape of Mickey Mouse, yeah?”. The relief when your child laughs instead of screaming is something I can imagine Trump’s entourage have done on many an occasion.

It’s because he’s such a caricature that it seems even children over here know who he is, when I’m sure American politics is not their forte. On writing my latest book, Fearless Fairy Tales, it seemed a no-brainer to make the character of Trumplestiltskin a big, caricatured baby. The story seemed to write itself thereafter: the meltdowns, ordering people about from his high chair, and crying over spilt milk.

When the concept originally came into my head, some years ago now, after Trump was first elected, it seemed like a funny, maybe even tad preposterous, idea. He was a rich businessman who had judged The Apprentice and made it into the White House. Surely his advisors would keep him in line? Someone that high up in office can’t just press the nuclear button on a whim. These people have codes of conducts, laws, regulations and rules to keep them in line, just like anyone else.

But that the most powerful man in the world could ban Muslims from entering the country, separate refugee children from their parents and encourage the drinking of bleach during a deadly pandemic is just totally unfathomable. Especially for a country that is supposedly the world’s leading example of a democracy.

As I write this piece, I don’t even know what will happen next. Will someone have to drag him out kicking and screaming like I had to drag my toddler away from a playdate? Thankfully, my toddler has grown up a bit now and is making better decisions. Let’s hope, for all our sakes, Trump follows suit.

‘Fearless Fairy Tales’ (£14.99), by Konnie Huq, and ‘Trumplestiltskin: A Cautionary Tale of Greed, Gold and Ridiculous Hair’ (£5.99), by Konnie Huq & James Farrell, are out now, published by Piccadilly Press