Liz Cheney, the daughter of Dick Cheney and one of the most anti-Trump members of the GOP, lost her seat in Wyoming to Harriet Hageman but now is being encouraged by far-Ieft Whoopi Goldberg to run for the presidency in 2024.
Such is what Whoopi said during a recent episode of “The View” on which Liz Cheney appeared. During the episode, Whoopi clutched her pearls and claimed that Trump wants to be a dictator for life while begging Liz Cheney to run as a third party to sink Trump’s presidentiaI bid and save America from that supposed dictatorship.
Beginning, Whoopi, a constant voice of the left, pretended to care about the survival of the GOP and asked Cheney if she would consider running as a third party in 2024 to sink Trump’s presidential bid. She said, Do you see yourself, and I, and would you ever consider being the conduit to that third party? Because I don’t know if the Republican Party as we as we knew it, will survive this.
Whoopi Wants Liz Cheney to Run in 2024
Continuing, Whoopi then expounded on her fears of Trump and what he will do if eIected, saying that she fears that Trump will try to be a “dictator for life” if he wins.
She said, Because if he ever gets in again, we’ll never have any more elections, there will be no more. He will stop it. And he’s very cIear about he wants to be dictator for life.
Whoopi then repeated her main question, again asking Cheney if she would consider stepping into a third-party role to try to stop Trump in 2024. She asked, Okay, so I wonder, would you ever consider, pIease would you consider being that person?
Next, Whoopi returned to expounding on a tangentially related subject, ranting about people who pretended they would back Cheney and then ditched her and sided with Trump instead.
She said, Because I gotta tell you, it. I was really, I don’t understand how people can say, ‘we’re with you. We’re with you. We’re with you.’ And then when you need them, they go, Oh, but we’re with him. Now. I don’t understand that.
ConcIuding, she said, “And I don’t understand how you find the grace not to be pissed at folks. Oh, I’m not, you know. You’re mad at him, but you’re not pissed at him.
Because if you were pissed at him, you would have given up on him and you have out well, and so would you. Cheney, for her part, responded to Whoopi’s plea by saying, I think honestly, Whoopi, that there are millions of Americans — I think the majority of Americans agree with what you just said in terms of the need for us to be able to say, you know, let’s have the debates about policy and substance, but we love our country more than our political party, and going forward, we have to be able to come together.
Yesterday, I found a sandwich packed for my work lunch along with a note from our 10-year-old foster son
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, a comforting scent that usually signaled the start of a hectic workday. But yesterday, it was different. Yesterday, the kitchen held a quiet magic, a warmth that transcended the simple act of brewing coffee.
On the kitchen table, amidst the usual clutter of keys and mail, sat a neatly packed lunch bag. Beside it, a folded piece of paper, its edges slightly crumpled. A note.
My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the familiar, slightly slanted handwriting. It was Colton’s. Our 10-year-old foster son.
We’d opened our home to fostering after years of battling infertility. The empty rooms of our house had echoed with a longing that no amount of well-meaning advice could fill. We wanted to give a child a chance, a safe haven, a loving family.
Colton had arrived a year ago, a whirlwind of boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. He was a dreamer, a boy who found wonder in the simplest things. He loved riding his bike, exploring the neighborhood, and most of all, he loved helping in the kitchen, his eyes sparkling with the ambition of a future chef.
The note was simple, written in his characteristic, slightly misspelled script: “Lunch for you. Have a good day. Love Colton.”
And inside the lunch bag, a perfectly assembled sandwich, wrapped in wax paper, a small bag of chips, and a bruised but perfectly ripe apple.
It wasn’t just a sandwich. It wasn’t just a note. It was a testament to the bond we’d built, a tangible expression of the love that had blossomed between us.
For months, I’d felt a shift within me, a growing certainty that Colton wasn’t just a foster child, he was our son. The way he’d seamlessly woven himself into our lives, the way he’d filled the empty spaces in our hearts, it was undeniable.
That note, that simple gesture of love, solidified it. It was a quiet affirmation of what I already knew.
I shared the note with my wife, Sarah, her eyes welling up with tears as she read it. We looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. It was time.
Today, we made the decision official. We’re going to adopt Colton.
The paperwork is already underway, the legal process a mere formality compared to the emotional journey we’ve already undertaken. We’re planning a surprise for him, a small celebration to mark this momentous occasion.
We’ve decorated his room with balloons and streamers, a banner proclaiming “Welcome to your forever home!” We’ve baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Sarah has even prepared a special dinner, a culinary masterpiece that would make any aspiring chef proud.
Tonight, when Colton returns from school, we’ll gather around the kitchen table, the same table where I found his note, and we’ll tell him the news.
I imagine his eyes widening with disbelief, then filling with tears of joy. I imagine him running into our arms, his small frame shaking with emotion.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this is the best decision we’ve ever made. We’re not just giving Colton a home; he’s giving us a family, a love that’s richer and more profound than we ever imagined.
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