Trump and Wes Moore Begin Co-Parenting Maryland’s New Jobs

PARODY. Maryland’s 3,100 promised new defense-manufacturing jobs were placed under a temporary shared-custody order Wednesday after President Trump and Gov. Wes Moore each arrived at Sparrows Point claiming they had spent more time raising them.

The jobs, which are not expected to begin working for several years and currently exist mostly as projections, incentives and extremely confident renderings of a future shipyard, will now divide their holidays between Washington and Annapolis. Trump receives alternate Tuesdays, major naval announcements and any day containing a camera crane. Moore gets school functions, tax-credit conferences and the first time one of the jobs learns the difference between gross pay and take-home pay.

“The children need consistency,” said fictional family-court mediator Janice Feldspar, standing between two lecterns that had been pushed far enough apart to qualify as separate media markets. “They cannot keep waking up to discover a different elected official has posted a video saying, ‘We did this.’ These are sensitive, pre-employed jobs. They have enough to process without seeing their parents fight over a construction-site backdrop.”

The dispute began after Trump traveled to Baltimore County to celebrate Anduril Industries’ planned Arsenal 2 project, a massive submarine-component facility expected to create thousands of jobs. Moore, whose administration had worked on bringing the development to Maryland, said he had been blocked from speaking at the event.

In the parody settlement, neither politician is permitted to claim sole credit until completing a mandatory “Co-Parenting the Economy” workshop. The first session reportedly became tense when participants were asked to name one thing the other parent does well. Trump wrote, “Governor has excellent access to Maryland.” Moore wrote, “President is very committed to arriving after the deal has become visually impressive.”

The mediator then attempted the exercise again using shorter pencils.

Under the agreement, Trump may tell audiences that he brought manufacturing back, provided he does not refer to the jobs as “my beautiful jobs” within 500 feet of an employee orientation. Moore may describe the project as the result of Maryland’s economic-development work, provided he does not quietly add a governor’s seal to each lunchbox issued at the facility.

The jobs themselves have been assigned an independent advocate: a 29-year-old future pipefitter named Caleb, who does not yet exist but has already been booked on three cable panels. In his first prepared statement, Caleb asked whether either political parent could explain what his shift would be, what his benefits would cover, and why everyone was discussing his emotional wellbeing through the phrase “American industrial renaissance.”

“I appreciate the attention,” said Caleb, according to an obviously fictional transcript read aloud by a labor representative. “But I am less interested in being fought over than in receiving a parking space that doesn’t require a tactical insertion.”

That was when the custody arrangement took an unexpected turn. Anduril was informed that, as the entity actually building the facility, it would have to undergo a paternity test.

The company submitted glossy brochures, investment commitments and several executives wearing sufficiently expensive safety goggles. Maryland submitted site preparation, incentives and a lengthy record of meetings. The federal government submitted a multibillion-dollar commitment to buy what the plant makes. Baltimore County submitted roads, permits and the familiar expression of a local government realizing it has somehow become the person everyone calls when a national argument needs parking.

After reviewing the evidence, Feldspar ruled that the jobs had “multiple contributing adults,” a finding that briefly caused every political consultant in the room to demand a recount of the phrase.

Trump and Moore were then ordered to attend the future shipyard’s first hiring fair together without competing for applause. They are expected to sit at a folding table marked ADULTS WHO HELPED, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE THIS WEIRD, where they will greet applicants, avoid eye contact and take turns telling each other that the jobs look just like them.

The arrangement is considered fragile. By Thursday morning, both offices had separately announced they were proud to have reached it first.