Sheesh, Allan. Long one! When he first got up, I started reading about Trump’s resignation to the little tooter. I’m just into the story when Joey says, “Boobs, Grandpa.” I manage to keep a straight face, and I’m saved when his mother calls him to breakfast — Pancakes! After breakfast, we resume. Again Joey says, “Boobs, Grandpa.” Before I can react, his mother requires us to go outside and play because it’s the first sunny day in a while.

A couple hours later, we are getting farther into your story and making good headway. Then Joey’s mother interrupts again — this time insisting he has lunch before his afternoon nap. As I close the iPad, Joey screams, “Boobs, Grandpa!” Now I’m concerned (and embarrassed) the fake boobs story I read to him yesterday was too impactful on his impressionable young mind. As I’m attempting to address the issue, Joey says, “No Grandpa! Trump, Pence, Bannon, Priebus, Spicer, Miller, Kellyanne, and Huckabee’s daughter. There’re all boobs!” I … I teared up.

Joey says, “Great job, Mr. Ishac!” But he also thought you should know one of his preschool friends (I think it was him) said, “This one was too effing long because life has to be about more than having your grandpa read to you about boobs that turn out to be assholes!” Say your prayers, Joey. Good night, Allan.

Engaged citizen, poet, musician, humorist, family man. I value irreverence, soulfulness, and a big heart. Offering insight, introspection, shock & aw shucks!

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