Malia Obama was spotted having lunch with a good-looking guy who looks just like a big Hollywood actor.

Malia Obama was all smiles during a sunny lunch date in Los Angeles, and her companion definitely caught attention. The 26-year-old was seen leaving a restaurant with Greek journalist and photographer Achilleas Ambatzidis.

Malia, the oldest daughter of Barack and Michelle Obama, was happily chatting with Achilleas, who looks a lot like Hollywood actor Penn Badgley from Gossip Girl, thanks to his beard and dark, floppy hair.

It’s unclear what the relationship between them is, but since moving to LA and starting her career in film, Malia has made a lot of new connections.

Malia Obama looked in a jovial mood

She graduated from Harvard University and then turned her attention to working in the entertainment industry.

Achilleas also lives in Los Angeles, but his Instagram shows that he often visits his home country

He co-created Chuck Magazine, which is sold in both Los Angeles and New York.

Malia was previously linked to music producer Dawit Eklund, and before that, she dated her Harvard classmate Rory Farquharson.

Her mom, Michelle Obama, has talked about Malia and her sister’s dating lives during an interview on Good Morning America.

Achilleas Ambatzidis looks like Penn Badgley

“They’re doing great,” Michelle said at the time. “I’m proud of them. They grew up under a really tough spotlight for eight years and turned out to be good, kind, and normal young women who want to make a difference in the world. Plus, they are best friends. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

She also understands that Malia and her sister Sasha want to enjoy dating and have fun with it.

“I think it’s great,” Michelle said. “I want them to figure out what they want and who they are in a relationship, and that means dating different people.”

When asked how Barack feels about them having boyfriends, she admitted he’s “handling it well,” and added: “They were 24 and 21 at the time. They went to prom, had high school experiences, and lived life. He’s learned how to be a protective dad without going overboard.”

Malia and Sasha live in LA together

They’re proud of both of their daughters and the future they’re building, especially since they’ve stayed away from politics.

At a big fundraiser for President Joe Biden in Los Angeles, someone asked the former President if his daughters would follow his path. Here’s what he said:

Malia is making name for herself in the movie industry

“That’s a question I don’t even need to answer because Michelle made sure early on to tell them that going into politics is a crazy idea. It’s never going to happen.”

The Mothers of a Couple Turned Thanksgiving Into a Living Hell for Their Newlywed Kids — Story of the Day

Two stubborn mothers arrive at Thanksgiving with their own plans, sparking a rivalry that fills the kitchen with smoke and tension. As surprises unfold, the family faces one unforgettable holiday where tempers flare, loyalties are tested, and a last-minute twist reminds them of what truly matters.

Thick, dark smoke swirled through the house, making it hard to breathe. Kira coughed, struggling to take in air as she pressed her hand over her mouth. Her other hand protectively rested on her pregnant belly, and she glanced at Michael with wide, anxious eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

They moved cautiously toward the kitchen, where the thickest smoke seemed to gather. There, like two children caught in the act, stood Margaret and Rebecca, each looking as startled as the other.

Their faces were smudged with black soot, their eyes wide and guilty, while the oven door hung open, revealing a turkey charred beyond recognition.

“What is going on here?!” Michael yelled, his eyes darting from his mother to his mother-in-law, then to the smoky kitchen around them.

“This old woman—” Rebecca started, pointing an accusing finger at Margaret.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Old woman? Look who’s talking!” Margaret interrupted, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms.

Rebecca glared. “If you hadn’t barged in here—”

Margaret shot back, “Barged in? You’re the one who can’t cook!”

Their voices grew louder, words tumbling over each other, turning into a mess of jabs and shouts, each trying to talk over the other. Insults flew back and forth as if they’d forgotten anyone else was there.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Please, stop,” Kira whispered, clutching her belly, but they didn’t hear her.

Kira winced, feeling a sharp pain. “Stop! I’m in labor!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Both women froze, their faces stunned. Then, suddenly, the turkey burst into flames in the oven. Margaret and Rebecca shrieked, grabbing towels to fight the fire, while Kira moaned in pain, and Michael stood there, helpless, eyes wide in shock.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One Week Earlier…

Margaret drove up to her daughter Kira’s house, feeling a spark of excitement. She held a fresh-baked pie on her lap, proud of the surprise she had planned.

Without calling ahead, she parked, stepped out, and walked up the front steps, smiling at the thought of catching them off guard. She knocked firmly, and before long, Michael opened the door, blinking in surprise.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Margaret… what are you doing here?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

“I decided to surprise you,” Margaret replied cheerfully, holding out a pie. “I thought a little treat might be nice.”

Michael took the pie, glancing back toward the kitchen, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Thanks, Margaret. Um, come on in.”

Margaret stepped inside, slipping off her coat, and instantly heard voices from the kitchen. She paused, recognizing the tone of Rebecca’s voice. With a raised brow, she followed the sound and found Kira seated, listening as Rebecca talked in her usual, commanding way.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca was in mid-sentence, her words calm yet firm. “It’s important to establish good habits early. Babies need a routine, structure.”

Margaret felt a surge of irritation. “Why are you bothering my daughter?”

Rebecca looked over, blinking, and gave a tight smile. “I’m just giving her a little parenting advice.”

Margaret scoffed. “Parenting advice? And what do you know about raising kids?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca’s smile vanished. “Excuse me? Your daughter is married to my son, after all. I think that gives me some right to speak.”

“Oh, well, apologies accepted,” Margaret said with a dry laugh. “Though I recall your son didn’t even know how to wash his own dishes when he started dating Kira. I had to teach him myself!”

“How dare you!” Rebecca snapped.

Michael stepped into the kitchen. “Please, calm down. Let’s keep things peaceful, all right?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Kira gave a tired sigh. “There will be a little baby in this house soon,” she said softly. “We want a positive atmosphere here. No fighting.”

Margaret nodded, sitting down at the table. “You’re right, Kira. I want the best for this family. And, well, since we’re all here, even if some people weren’t exactly welcome…” Her gaze shifted pointedly to Rebecca. “Why don’t we talk about Thanksgiving? I’ll make my signature turkey—”

Rebecca cut her off. “Actually, I was going to suggest we celebrate at my place this year.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “We celebrate at my place every year. It’s tradition.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca crossed her arms. “Traditions can change. I’m tired of sneezing from your silly cat.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Better to have a cat than to celebrate in a snake’s den.”

Rebecca’s voice rose. “Who do you think you are?!”

Kira sighed heavily, covering her face with her hands. Michael gently patted her back. “I think we should celebrate here this year,” he offered quickly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What?” Kira blurted, surprised.

“It’ll be fine, Kira. I’ll help you with the cooking,” Michael assured her.

Margaret shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“It’s better than all this arguing,” Michael replied.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Kira nodded wearily. “He’s right. My head is pounding.”

Rebecca softened a little. “At least let me help. I can make the turkey.”

Kira sighed. “Fine.”

“But what about my signature turkey?” Margaret asked, hurt.

“Just this once, Mom,” Kira pleaded.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret paused, then gave in with a nod. “All right. For you, Kira,” she said, though a secret plan was already forming in her mind.

On Thanksgiving morning, Margaret rose early, her mind set on her plan. She was ready, having spent the entire week gathering the perfect ingredients. She packed up her turkey, herbs, spices, and everything needed to create her well-loved recipe.

She carefully tucked everything into a basket and drove over to Kira and Michael’s house. She knew Kira and Michael were out, so there was no time to waste.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She reached their front door, taking out the spare key Kira had given her, meant only for emergencies. But today, Margaret felt this was important enough.

As she stepped inside, she paused, listening. A muffled noise drifted from the kitchen—pots clanging, cabinets closing. Margaret froze, her mind racing. Kira and Michael’s car wasn’t outside, so it wasn’t them.

Her eyes darted around, and she spotted an umbrella by the door. She grabbed it firmly and walked toward the kitchen, her heart pounding. She raised the umbrella as she peeked inside.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

There, bent over the counter, was Rebecca, elbows deep in turkey preparations. Margaret stopped short, barely holding back from swinging the umbrella.

“Are you completely insane?!” Rebecca shouted.

Margaret glared back. “I thought you were a burglar! What are you even doing here?”

Rebecca crossed her arms. “Kira gave me permission to cook here. But what are you doing here?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret calmly set her basket on the counter. “I’m here to make my turkey.”

Rebecca scowled. “That wasn’t the deal.”

Margaret smirked. “What’s wrong? Afraid mine will taste better?”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “We’ll just have to see about that!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The kitchen was soon filled with the sounds of clanking pots and muttered complaints as Margaret and Rebecca worked side by side, each determined to make the best turkey.

They bumped elbows, snatched spices from each other’s reach, and exchanged pointed glares. Margaret sprinkled her herbs, pretending not to notice when Rebecca nudged her arm slightly, causing salt to spill. Rebecca hummed loudly, ignoring Margaret’s muttering about “rookie mistakes.”

Finally, Margaret finished her turkey, carefully placing it in the oven with a triumphant grin. She noticed the irritation in Rebecca’s eyes but ignored it, brushing her hands off as she headed to the living room to relax.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After a while, a strange, burnt smell filled the air. Alarmed, Margaret rushed back to the kitchen, finding Rebecca desperately waving a towel, trying to fan away thick smoke billowing from the oven.

“What did you do?!” Margaret shouted, glaring at Rebecca.

Rebecca crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything! Maybe you don’t know how to cook.”

Margaret stormed over to the oven, eyeing the controls. She noticed the temperature had been changed. “You did this! You’re trying to ruin my turkey!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca leaned in with a smirk. “I didn’t touch it. If it’s ruined, it’s your own fault!”

Margaret pulled open the oven door, only to be hit by a wave of thick, black smoke that poured out into the kitchen. She coughed and squinted, trying to see through the haze.

There, in the center of the oven, was her turkey—charred to a solid black lump. It looked nothing like the golden masterpiece she’d imagined.

Moments later, Michael and Kira walked through the door, both stopping short at the smoky mess. Instantly, Margaret and Rebecca began shouting, each blaming the other.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But suddenly, Kira doubled over, clutching her belly. “Michael… it’s time!” she gasped, gripping his hand.

As Michael guided Kira to the car, Margaret watched, her heart pounding with worry for her daughter.

“Take a cab,” Michael said firmly. “I don’t want either of you stressing Kira out with more arguments.” With that, he helped Kira into the car, then got in and drove off without waiting for their reply.

Margaret huffed. “Well, we can take my car.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca nodded, looking tired herself. “Fine, let’s go.”

When they arrived at the hospital, the nurse informed them that only Michael was allowed in the room with Kira. Margaret and Rebecca found two chairs in the hallway and sat down, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them. They fidgeted, glanced around, and avoided each other’s eyes.

Finally, Margaret cleared her throat. “I think we need a truce,” she said quietly. “We almost ruined Thanksgiving, and if Kira hadn’t gone into labor… well, we would have ruined it for her.”

Rebecca nodded slowly, her face softening. “I agree. I don’t want my granddaughter thinking her grandma’s a nutcase.” She paused, then looked at Margaret directly. “So, peace?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret nodded, extending her hand. “Peace,” she repeated.

Rebecca took her hand, giving it a firm shake.

Just then, Michael stepped out, smiling. “You can see your granddaughter now,” he said, motioning for them to come in.

Both women leapt up, hurrying to the room. Inside, Kira lay on the hospital bed, smiling, with a tiny bundle cradled in her arms.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca leaned over, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s beautiful,” she said softly.

Margaret nodded, reaching out to touch the baby’s tiny hand. “And she looks like both of you,” she added with a smile.

A nurse walked in, carrying a tray. “Dinner for the new mom,” she announced, setting it on the bedside table. “Since it’s Thanksgiving, we went with a holiday-themed meal.” The tray held slices of turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green peas.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret chuckled. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new Thanksgiving tradition.”

“No way!” Kira exclaimed with a laugh. “I am not going through this every year!”

Everyone burst out laughing, and though it wasn’t the Thanksgiving they’d planned, it was the one they truly needed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When Rick returns to his small hometown after his grandmother’s passing, he inherits her old bookstore—a place full of memories from his childhood. But as he starts cleaning, he uncovers hidden secrets about his grandmother’s life that change everything. Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*