Joshua Trump, 11, is no relation to President Donald Trump. Their only connection, aside from being life forms, is in sharing the same last name. Everything else about them is different.

President Trump is believed to hail from the Gamulon 6 quadrant of the Delfonic-3 galaxy, or right next door — give or take a million light-years — to Nancy Pelosi’s home planet in the Frozonic System.

Josh is from Delaware.

All three were brought together Tuesday night, when President Trump gave his State of the Union address with Pelosi doing her best impression of “I’m not thinking of murder” over his shoulder.

Josh, being a sensible lad, slept through much of it.

Cameras focused on Josh’s less-than-awed posture, showing him slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, mouth agape, totally oblivious to the proceedings.

First reports declared Josh a “champion of the left” for his disrespect to the president, which in reality was just the result of a tired kid being dragged about by adults for purposes of their own.

Josh was invited to the SOTU address by President Trump because he is picked on, bullied, taunted and generally shamed over his last name. Josh, I mean. Not the president.

Who knows if Josh’s much-covered presence at the address will help solve his problems in being bullied because of his last name? I suspect it will only make things worse. The kids who picked on him because of his last name will now be joined by those who believe he disrespected the president by conking off.

Incidentally, the bullies get the OK for this behavior from their parents, who don’t make a secret of hating Trump. What 11-year-old kid honestly gives a rat’s fart about politics?

Falling asleep during important stuff is common to a lot of people. Good examples are those who believe worshipping their god is enormously important yet still manage to nod off during a sonorous sermon.

How can falling asleep before God not be worse than falling asleep before a president?

Sometimes zoning out is an important coping mechanism. I remember drifting off on the aircraft waiting to take off for my first jump at Fort Benning. Hey, I was tired. And terrified. It was either go to sleep or scream.

Anyone who’s been in the military can relate to lapsing into unconsciousness during moments previously considered impossible for sleep.

During my time in the military, I sometimes fell asleep standing in the chow line supported by nothing but the air around me. We slept in trucks, our heads on the packs of the guys ahead of us.

I’ve fallen asleep while being rained on, yelled at and in the middle of a rock concert. I had some help with that last one — if you know what I mean.

Today, I’m old. What finally knocked out Josh at the SOTU address would have worked hours earlier on me.

I’ve dozed off while writing, watching TV, mowing the lawn, herding cows, and, once, while waiting for Sonny to shoot a cannon ball over a ditch where I was hiding.

A word of caution: At no time do you want to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation with your significant other. By this, I mean the person with whom you sleep.

Alone in a room, just the two of you, there are no witnesses or press cameras that will obligate that person to tolerate your weariness.

If, for example, you fall asleep while your significant other is explaining something important like why you don’t need a new shotgun, it’s possible she will put her feet on your back and propel you from the bed and across the room. I can show you the mark. It’s still there.

Josh won’t have to worry about that. He’s going to spend the rest of his life being known as the kid President Trump put to sleep. He’ll be lucky if he ever gets to sleep again.

Robert Kirby is The Salt Lake Tribune’s humor columnist. Follow Kirby on Facebook.