Upon which time as we shall distance ourselves from the ignoble truths of our present existence.

11-year old cowboy pulls a wagon through a dry field to a verdant forest on a hot summer afternoon

Conversations between brothers in pastures on late summer afternoons:

So…
he says, his 4-year old hands wiping a streak of dirt across his face as he brushes back blond locks,
we like Ronald Reagan and Joe Biden, but not Donald Trump?

Yeah,
his brother says, his 11-year old hands wiping a streak of dirt across his face as he brushes back blond locks,
that is correct.

Apparently my relative proximity is a non-factor:

Hey,
he says, trudging through dry grass on his 4-year old legs,
who do you like more: Mama, or Daddy, or Sissy?

I quickly distanced myself before I had to face the truth of an answer from his brother that might not brighten my day.