I hereby give thanks that from Jan. 20, 2021 on, the only stories I will be reading with the name Trump in the headline will be the cheesy ones about his bankruptcy or divorce filings, his depositions and tax returns (when that audit’s finally over, which I’m guessing will be soon), and any tabloid speculating on whether Ivanka is going to the Met Gala or jail, or into exile in the Xanadu she and Jared are building at the Trump golf club in Bedminster, New Jersey with four new pickleball courts, a relocated heliport, a spa and yoga complex, and an expanded “cottage” comparable to the gilded mansion they will be leaving behind in Washington.

I won’t be tempted by stories about any Trump offspring running for office because there won’t be any.

To those worried we will never rid ourselves of Trump, watch as he shrinks before our very eyes in a Washington minute from leader of the free world to a broken-down real estate developer up to his ears in debt. On Monday, Trump was just another dumpy 74-year-old man wheeling around the golf course in a motorized cart wondering how long it would be until his next cheeseburger.