A few years after Barack Obama praised Drake, calling him talented enough to do anything, the rapper was seen partying with Obama’s daughters.
Malia and Sasha Obama were spotted at a Hollywood party with Drake, wearing outfits that showed off their fun and stylish sides. One of them showed her midriff, while the other wore a revealing top.
If you want to know more about the former first daughters, who are now all grown up, keep reading!
Life in the White House wasn’t easy for Malia and Sasha Obama, who just want to enjoy life like everyone else.
On Father’s Day, Michelle Obama shared a sweet message, thanking Barack Obama for being a loving and caring dad to their two girls, Malia and Sasha.
Malia, born on July 4, 1998, and Sasha, born on June 10, 2001, are the daughters of former President Barack Obama and Michelle Obama. From 2009 to 2017, they lived in the White House, one of the most famous homes in the world.
Their mother, Michelle Obama, once said that the girls had to learn how to handle all the attention while staying polite and figuring out how to live their own lives under the public eye. She shared this during an interview on the *Moments that Make Us* podcast with Melinda French Gates.
Michelle Obama shared that her daughters had to be smart, confident, and independent from a young age, even while living in the White House with staff like butlers, maids, and florists. She always reminded them, “You won’t live here with me forever, so I need to help you take charge of your own life.”
In 2014, when Malia was getting ready for prom, it was hard for Barack Obama to see his oldest daughter growing up so fast.
“I think it’s fair to say that the first time you see your daughter in heels is a little bit jarring,” he said on Live with Kelly & Michael. “She’s lovely. She’s beautiful.”
After graduating high school in 2016, the young woman took a gap year before attending Harvard University, where she graduated in 2021.
Malia Obama showed an interest in entertainment and spent her gap year working in the industry. She worked as a production assistant on Halle Berry’s CBS sci-fi show *Extant* and as a writer on the Amazon series *Swarm*.
In 2024, using the name Malia Ann, she made her debut at the Sundance Film Festival with a short film she wrote and directed called *Heart*.
Back in 2008, Barack Obama told *People* that Sasha was full of energy and the comedian of the family.
After Sasha graduated from high school in 2019, she started her first year at the University of Michigan, where she had to learn online because of the COVID pandemic.
At 23, Sasha Obama graduated from the University of Southern California in May 2023 with a degree in sociology.
Now, she and her sister Malia live together in a home in Los Angeles.
Michelle Obama shared how happy it makes her to see her daughters finding comfort in each other’s company, saying, “It’s the one thing you hope for as a parent.”
Malia and Sasha also enjoy having fun together. Recently, they were spotted partying with Canadian rapper Drake at The Bird Streets Club in Los Angeles, dressed in stylish outfits that fit the occasion.
Sasha Obama showed off her belly in a black cropped corset, paired with baggy cargo pants and open-toe shoes. She wore her braids in a high ponytail and added some sparkle with earrings, a necklace, and rings.
Malia matched her sister’s cool style, wearing a sheer lace-up top with high-waisted printed pants that showed off her curves. She completed her look with long brown hair over her shoulders and chunky boots.
The sisters partied at Drake’s event, which must have been wild! Reports say they stayed out until 4 a.m. and left with their friends.
Drake, who has a mutual admiration with the Obama family, was in L.A. for his “It’s All A Blur Big As The What?” tour at the Crypto.com Arena. The Toronto-born rapper once said he’d love to play Barack Obama if a biopic is ever made.
In 2010, Drake said, “I hope someone makes a movie about Obama’s life soon because I could play him.”
In 2020, Barack Obama responded to the idea and praised Drake. “Drake seems to be able to do anything he wants,” the former president said when asked about Drake playing him in a movie. “He’s a talented guy, so if the time comes and he’s ready…”
He adds, “Drake has, more importantly I think, my household’s stamp of approval. I suspect (my daughters) Malia and Sasha would be just fine with it.”
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I arrived home to find my kids sleeping in the hallway — seeing what my husband had turned their bedroom into while I was gone drove me wild with angerPhoto of admin admin3 weeks ago0 616 7 minutes read
After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!
I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.
I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.
As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.
I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.
The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.
My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.
Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?
I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.
The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?
That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?
I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…
“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.
There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.
I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”
He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”
He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”
I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”
“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”
“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”
“But I’m in the middle of—”
“NOW, Mark!”
He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.
I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.
I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
The next morning, I put my plan into action.
While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”
I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.
“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.
“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”
After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”
I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”
Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.
I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.
His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”
The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.
“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”
He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”
To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”
The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”
He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.
“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”
The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.
“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”
Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”
She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”
I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”
Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”
Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”
As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.
“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”
I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”
He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”
As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.
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