President Donald Trump waddled to the Oval Office playpen today and announced his “big boy” decision: U.S. Space Command will officially move its headquarters to Huntsville, Alabama. Trump declared the city will now forever be known as “Rocket City,” though no word on whether pacifiers will also be launched into orbit.
“This will result in more than 30,000 Alabama jobs and billions and billions of dollars,” Trump cooed, before correcting himself mid-sippy: “Not millions, billions!” He praised Alabama for fighting hard for the toy and took a dig at Colorado for having “crooked mail-in voting,” which apparently disqualified them from the sandbox competition.
The announcement was filled with shoutouts to baby friends: Senators Katie Britt and Tommy Tuberville, plus House members Mike Rogers, Barry Moore, and more. Trump even paused to console Britt over her grandmother’s passing at 100 years old, saying she “must have been wonderful to produce you indirectly.” That’s baby math right there.
Trump also hyped up something called the “Golden Dome,” a missile defense shield he promised will be “the likes of which nobody’s ever seen before.” Canada apparently called dibs on a piece of the shiny toy, hoping to play too.
As usual, the event included Trump’s trademark baby ramblings—at one point pivoting from space jobs to a drug boat takedown, then to fake news about his supposed “death,” then to sending National Guard troops to Chicago. The pacifier was spinning fast today.
Then came the show-and-tell. Trump said, “Forever to be known from this point forward as Rocket City,” while reminding the room, “We love Alabama.” He added that Huntsville beat out other nurseries because “they fought very hard to get it,” which is baby code for “called him a lot at nap time.”
The backup singers chimed in. Secretary Pete Hegseth declared, “Whoever controls the skies will control the future of warfare,” which is basically saying the kid with the tallest slide rules the playground. Senator Katie Britt called the move a safety thing, saying the goal is to put “the war fighter… first” and restore Space Command to “its rightful home in Huntsville, Alabama.” Translation: give the toy back to the kid who brought all the batteries.
Coach-turned-Senator Tommy Tuberville brought his whistle and a calculator: “This move will save the taxpayers $480 million.” He also promised a “Donald J. Trump’s Space Command Center” in Huntsville, which sounds like a museum gift shop where the snow globes actually launch.
Other babies took turns with the mic like it was musical chairs. One beamed, “another promise made, another promise kept.” Another reminded everyone that “Space is the ultimate high ground.” The message: take the high chair, win the snack time.
Trump mixed in some city talk too, bragging that “Washington DC is a safe zone,” and teasing big-boy moves for Chicago: “We’re going in.” Between space forts and street cleanups, the theme was the same—pack the diaper bag and deploy.
And yes, the “Golden Dome” got more sparkle. Trump called it a “missile defense shield,” promised it would be “the finest, the best,” and said other kids like Canada “want to be included.” If this turns into group project time, expect arguments over who gets the shiny markers.
During the Oval Office playpen presser, reporter Peter Doocy piped up with the ultimate peekaboo question: “Mr. President, how did you find out over the weekend that you were dead?”
Trump blinked, adjusted his bib, and replied, “Really? I didn’t see that… That’s pretty serious. I’m glad it’s fake news.” He explained that he skipped press appearances for two days over Labor Day weekend, which apparently convinced the internet crib that he’d crawled off this mortal playmat.
The former president quickly reassured everyone he was alive, pointing out that he had done “numerous news conferences, all successful,” posted “poignant truths,” and even visited his club. “I was very active actually,” Trump insisted, bouncing his rattle.
So no, the president wasn’t gone. He was just playing peekaboo, and the internet babies lost the game.
Both Sides’ Reaction
Babies who clapped their rattles loved the move, saying Huntsville already has NASA, missile defense, SpaceX, and the FBI—so it’s basically the deluxe playpen for space toys. They argue this keeps America “number one in the high frontier” and saves taxpayers money.
Babies who threw their blocks weren’t so thrilled. Colorado supporters say the process was political, and Trump’s grudge over mail-in voting rigged the game. They warn the move could hurt military readiness by forcing staff to relocate from Colorado Springs, where Space Command has already been operating.
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