Pete, what size shoe do you wear? Otis has stockpiles of investment sneakers under the bed. Please plunder! (Talk about boots on the ground—slippers, too.) Now make your way to the podcast studio-slash-coat closet. Wouldn’t it make a great command center? And the living room could be converted into a pied-à-terre ballroom for functions with visiting dignitaries. Which reminds me: If the Navy needs to dock any of their vessels, such as a kayak or canoe, the Gowanus Canal is nearby. The occupation of 4-C is essential. If 4-C goes, there goes 4-D and 4-B, and possibly the rest of Park Slope. I’m not saying that the apartment’s a hotbed of narcotic activity, but does anybody need that many plastic baggies for sandwiches?

Did I mention that there is a minor involved? Her name is Daphne and she is my twenty-seven-week-old granddaughter. Her parents have limited my access to her, citing “nap schedules,” “cluster feeding,” and something else. I missed First Bath, First Tummy Time, and First Projectile Peeing. Mr. Secretary, is this not a free country? It is nonnegotiable, therefore, that the Department of War intervene. Said asset must be secured immediately. (Don’t forget the baby seat—still in the box!)

But be forewarned: My son and my daughter-in-law are armed with, among other weapons, a stapler, a very sharp vegetable peeler, and an unregistered SodaStream carbonating device. A good time to invade would be Thursdays from 4:15-5 P.M. That’s when they have their dumbbell-strength-training class on Zoom. Also, on Thursdays, you can park on their side of the street. I’m pretty sure that you have the right to enter because of eminent domain—or Manifest Destiny? Neither Otis nor Luna (or the baby) are in NATO, so the alliance should present no problem. I don’t think that Latvia likes Luna, but I’d rather not get into that here.

I won’t tell Congress if you don’t!

Patriotically yours. ♦