Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

“So,” I said to Earl over our usual morning coffee, “what would you think of creating some ground rules for watching the first debate tomorrow night? I mean, in the same room?”

He looked dubious. After all, we are rooting for different presidential candidates and, at times, have been very vocal about the other’s obviously ridiculous choice.

“I have an idea,” I said, pursuing the topic when he didn’t jump in. “I plan to iron; maybe you could do other busy work too. This way, we’d get something accomplished. As for the candidates’ remarks, we would have to agree that neither of us could editorialize aloud. We could not comment on the commentators either. The only thing that would be open for discussion is the actual question that is asked and its merit. This way, we take the focus off the people and put it on the issues.”

Now I know Earl loves me very much, and that he would much prefer to spend an evening together rather than each of us being sequestered in our own corners watching our own televisions. So I wasn’t surprised when he agreed.

Then I sweetened the pot by offering to bake a Presidential Pumpkin Pie and serving it at what might be the half-time show, if there is one. Failing that, we’ll eat when we please, since I’m a great believer that the way to quell anger is through a man’s stomach.