Every single morning, my two large sons Thad and Hunter wake me up earlier than my alarm and ask me “Dad, did Putin take the cyanide pill yet?” I always get up, make a groggy way into the kitchen and feed them 24 ounces of Blue Wilderness puppy chow (kids are units and the crude protein is really good for them). I remind them that Putin is a busy man, he’s working on it, and usually by 7am they come around. I ask them what they want Putin’s funeral to look like, and we play a game about all the places his death could change the world for a better place. I wake up everyday with a hopeful sense of relief that only a Ukrainian parent can understand. I pray for the day My sons, my beautiful large sons, get to sleep in, without bomb shelling alarm clocks.