Do I ...

Do I want to type about the progressive wing of the Democratic Party urging Joe Biden to negotiate with Darth Putin?  Joe Biden, who has more foreign policy experience than all the members of that coalition put together, ought to sit at the table with Vlad the Invader?  What should he say, when it's not his country that is being bombed to smithereens?  

Do I want to type about Kari Lake, our MAGA Republican candidate for governor?  She vacuumed the carpet before tfg (the former guy.... although I can come up with a lot more descriptive terms using those letters) stepped onto the stage in Arizona.  There are lots of places to take that, but do I want to go there?

Do I want to type about drivers who cannot negotiate a left turn in the rain?  In Arizona, I blame all traffic disruptions on snow birds and the elderly.  Here in Indiana, it's young women who seem to think that turning on the windshield wipers immediately puts a damper on the gas pedal.  I could move on from that to Road Toads occupying the left lane, but why?

Do I want to laugh at myself for buying two ridiculously expensive stuffies at the Build A Bear Workshop?  The saleswomen were delightful, the process was simple and fun, the bears were stuffed to each child's specific squeeze, and rubbing the (free) heart on legs (for speed) and forehead (for intelligence) and heart (for caring) put the biggest smiles on the littlest faces.  Neither grandkid needed another soft toy, nor was the clothing necessary, but FlapJilly wondered if we could possible stop in and get her one and that touched the soft spot in my heart.... as my wallet wondered why.

Do I want to bemoan the fact that it's raining so I can't take the kiddos to the big park near FlapJilly's school after I pick her up from Kids Club?  Why would I concentrate on that when Giblet and TBG and I spent a lovely morning at the zoo and the giant park across the parking lot..... along with 4 other grandmas and their little ones?

The answers are NO.... there is no reason to go to the dark side when I am surrounded by Little Cuter's family.  We made s'mores around the fire pit last night, dancing in the moonlight and roasting the sweet treats to a perfect golden brown.  I haven't had a toasted marshmallow since I lived with G'ma and Daddooooo; the first taste brought me right back to my childhood.   With thoughts like these in my head, why would I wallow in the here and now?

So, I won't.