Why I Can't Leave My Husband, Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

Every time I try, he starts in with that smooth talking.

New writer alert! Danielle Koenig is a comedy writer (The Dish, Dark Air with Terry Carnation, Invader ZIM) and cohost of the comedic podcast How to Survive with Danielle & Kristine.

It’s hard being me, famous actress Cheryl Hines of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

A lot of people ask me, “Cheryl Hines of Curb Your Enthusiasm, when are you going to leave your nutjob husband, Bobby Kennedy?!” And I say to them, “Thank you for being a fan!” Then they usually say something like, “No, seriously, I’m talking about your marriage to anti-vax conspiracist and definitive argument against nepotism, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. What do you even see in him?” But you know how it is… whenever I try to leave, he starts in with that smooth talking.

Boy, does that man’s voice make me weak in the vagina! I know some people say it sounds like a potato peeler stuck in a garbage disposal, but to me, it sounds like Cupid himself flying through the sky on wings made of pure eroticism. And I just melt when he looks deep into my eyes and says (having first taken a big drink of water), “You’re the prettiest improviser I’ve ever had sex with,” or perhaps more commonly, “Measles, schmeasles.”

Look, there have been plenty of times when I’ve considered leaving Camelot. There was our Christmas party during the COVID pandemic, when he gave me a hard time for urging our guests to vaccinate or get tested. I was so angry at his psychopathic ability to ignore common sense that I threw a family urn at him! I’m not sure whose it was, but you better believe one of the Kennedys’ many great statesmen or famous drunk drivers was vacuumed up that night! I nearly walked away the next morning until Bobby, sounding like he’d swallowed an emery board, said, “Cheryl, please for…ive me.” And well, I had no choice but to for…ive him.

Other people have asked why I stood by like an extra during Bobby’s confirmation hearings to work for the vilest president in our nation’s history. But c’mon — did you not hear my hubby adorably warble his half-answers and outright lies? Were you not turned on as he croaked out an explanation for why eighty people in Samoa died of measles right after he went there to discourage vaccinations? Also, did you see how good my hair looked?

Oh, I think Bobby just got home!

…Nope, it was just someone dragging a rusty shovel across gravel.

I’m telling you, his halting cadence can really make a girl forget he conducted a year-long sexting affair with a famous reporter. At least he didn’t blame me for his cheating like he did with his last wife. That’s real growth! And I did give him an ultimatum when that all went down. I said move me from Los Angeles to D.C. or else! That’s right, I gave up my life in Hollywood and whatever credibility I had left to stand by my man.

Anyway, I should go. Bobby will be back soon from swimming in a lake of nuclear waste, and he’ll want to bounce ideas off me on how best to mischaracterize some medical report or another… I’m getting wet just thinking about it.

I wonder if it’s too late to change my last name to Kennedy!

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A big, big thank you to our most recent paid subscriber, Angela W. Your subscription dollars went directly toward paying Danielle for this piece! I guess that makes you a successful comedy producer now, so congratulations on your new career, Angela!

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