THE RETURN OF BABY TRUMP
From the Rooftop of First Ave to the Skies Over NATO — the Resistance Is Inflating Again
Before he went global, before the second term, before the felony trials and the fascist executive orders — Baby Trump showed up in Minneapolis.
Not because CNN announced it. Not because some nonprofit signed off. But because somebody made a phone call to New Jersey, found two giant inflatable caricatures of Donald Trump in diapers, and hauled them into the heart of downtown.
On October 10, 2019, Trump held a rally inside the Target Center. Outside, Minneapolis delivered the kind of protest that belongs in a museum — if that museum also serves weed and screams at cops.
More than 10,000 people filled the streets. Drag queens, union guys, elders, punks, anarchists, clergy, kids in banana suits, activists, moms with strollers, and the guy who made the call in the first place.
And above them all — not floating, but perched like a bloated vinyl gargoyle — was Baby Trump, tied to the roof of First Avenue like a rubberized god of rage and ridicule.
The Baby Trump balloon is 20 feet of concentrated disrespect. Orange. Diapered. Clutching a smartphone like it’s the nuclear football. Designed to mock, engineered to travel, built to humiliate.
He’s appeared at rallies, marches, summits, parades, and press gaggles — trailing Trump like a fart made visible. He doesn’t chant. He doesn’t march. He just exists. And in that existence, he says what the rest of us are thinking:
You are not powerful. You are a baby.
In Minneapolis, two of those balloons were deployed. One anchored outside The Saloon — a downtown LGBTQ-friendly bar with better security than Mar-a-Lago — and the other strapped to the roof of First Avenue, directly across from the arena.
High winds kept them from flying. That was fine. They didn’t need to fly. They needed to loom.
And they did.
10,000 strong. Shoulder to shoulder. First Ave glowing.
From the skyway, you could see it all. The chants. The signs. The tension. And above it all: that massive orange baby, silently judging America.
Inside the Target Center, Trump droned through a speech. Outside, signs waved. Whistles screamed in honor of the Ukraine whistleblower. A man in a Kaepernick jersey got kicked out of the rally for silently existing. And Baby Trump just watched.
He didn’t float.
He didn’t blink.
He just loomed.
Fast forward to May 2025. Trump is back in the White House. Worse than ever. Project 2025 is rolling out like a horror franchise reboot no one asked for. Immigrants are being rounded up. DEI offices are being purged. Students are being detained. The Department of Justice looks like a group chat from The Purge.
And yet — somehow — Baby Trump is still the only honest mirror we’ve got.
He’s a protest. He’s a meme. He’s a moving monument to everything this manchild president fears: ridicule, scale, and losing control of the narrative.
And now?
He’s coming back.
The Baby is being resurrected.
A few of them survived the chaos of the last administration. They’ve been in storage. Patched up. Refitted. Their crews are ready. They’re not paid. They’re not sponsored. They’re just pissed.
And the plan is already in motion.
First stop: NATO. May 24. Dayton, Ohio.
That’s right. The Baby is heading to the NATO Spring Meeting — because nothing says “international diplomacy” like an airborne tantrum hovering outside a security perimeter.
Then?
The G7 Summit in Alberta, Canada. If the logistics land, the Baby’s going to cross the border and scream at the most powerful men in the world from a Canadian sky.
And after that? Wherever the fight is. Courthouses. Conventions. Campaign stops. Trump so much as farts in a battleground state, we want that balloon overhead.
But here’s the thing:
We need your help.
We’re not asking you to join a protest. We’re not asking you to hold a sign. We’re asking you — if you can — to throw a few bucks at the balloon.
Because these aren’t toys. They take fuel. Permits. Repairs. Travel. Storage. Teams.
And while the rage is free, helium and highway miles are not.
So here’s the ask:
If you’ve got the means, if you’ve got five bucks and a little fire left, if you remember Minneapolis and how it felt to laugh that night — donate.
If you can’t donate, share the campaign. Post it. Text it. Print it on a shirt and wear it to brunch.
Because in a country where fear is rising and justice is shrinking, sometimes the sharpest tool in the drawer is 20 feet tall, full of hot air, and ready to piss off a president.
Let’s get him in the sky.
Let’s make them look up.
Let’s remind the world: we’re not done fighting.
Help make Baby Trump fly again.
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From rooftops to rallies, we’ll keep showing up.
Join us.
Thank you that made my day. Trump will not prevail. It will be important for all of us to know we saved our democracy and in do so, helped democracies around the globe. Thank you from a 77 year old woman who wants her children and grandchildren to grow up in a better world.
That balloon needs to be a hot air dirigible, too!
Hope this funding goes viral so we might see that one day!