In case you’ve forgotten my philosophy, I’ll remind you: everything outside my bubble…. doesn’t exist. We don’t watch nor listen to the news…. and I’ve taken to hiding any newsish Facebook posts. In fact, if everyone wasn’t so busy talking about Trump, I’d think they were all referring to his show, The Apprentice.

In any event, my seventh grader came to me at dinner time and asked to interview me on the events of “9/11.” For years, its just been a date in my home, like any other. Today, said date made my daughter the sacrificial lamb. You see, I had to decide whether to tell her the actual events and just direct deposit my checks to our resident psychiatrist or skirt the issue and make her look like an idiot.

As tempting as the latter sounded, I decided to tell her in the most simplest of terms. However, since I have raised my children in a bunker, she had no concept of what I was saying and asked me to explain it.

7th grader: Mom, where were you on September 11th?

Me: I was at work…

7th grader: Can you tell me what happened?

Me: Well, I was at work and I got a phone call about something that happened and….

7th grader: Not that! What was happening that you got a call?

Me: (Noticing my anxious child waiting for me to reply) How about I just write it down for you so its easier?

7th grader: (Reads what I wrote) People flew a plane into two buildings, it killed workers instantly?! People jumped to their deaths to escape?

Anxious child: (head spins around in my direction)

Me: We’ll see Dr. Puncture My Anus tomorrow.