I garnished my daughter’s breakfast yesterday morning. Bintou cooked the crepes, but I applied the chocolate. I don’t always apply the chocolate. Bintou often does that, too.

As I was spreading the Nutella around, Bintou repeatedly mentioned that I need to make sure the chocolate extends all the way to the edges.

“Like every square millimeter has to be coated in chocolate?”

“Oui”

“Or what? She won’t eat it?”

“Oui, elle va la jeter”

Translation: she will fling it away. She will throw it away is probably more accurate, but “fling it,” is on my mind. It’s still on my mind even though it was uttered over a month ago on a jungle path on the island of Canhabaque in the Bijagos archipelago of Guinea-Bissau. Someone asked Matt what to do if a snake fell on top of you from a tree. He said to “fling it away.” (that is not official snake or life advice)

Why am I telling you any of this? I want to write again and I don’t know how to do it. So I’m just going to start putting words together. There could be a lot of bad writing. More non sequiturs and incoherence, less insight and fully formed thoughts, if there ever were those things.

There will definitely not be any promises. I can promise you that. I have tried and failed too many times to revive this thing.

Anyway, I stubbornly refused to heed Bintou’s advice and my daughter did indeed “jete” every part of the crepe that was not smothered in chocolate.

More importantly, Senegal has an election today and we — and very much We — all hope it goes well.