I would assume Joe Biden will continue running, and I would assume the Republicans won’t ditch Donald Trump. This is profoundly disappointing, but I want to give a rundown of what that impending choice has meant for my family, which is a cross-section that’s at least interesting to me. Not that any of the candidates will care, since Kansas is a foregone conclusion in the electoral college. Nobody cares about Kansas.

We have seven kids between us, all voting age, living in Manhattan, Olathe, Stillwater, Davis, Philadelphia and New York. The one who lives with us has Down syndrome and isn’t voting. The others I won’t identify any further from here because they didn’t sign up as a newspaper columnist.

Two are pro-Trump, and are of course pressing the issue now. They say: How could you possibly vote for Biden if he’s non compos mentis. That’s Latin for “mixes up the presidents of Mexico and Egypt.”

One is stridently anti-Trump. Another is anti-Trump but gets annoyed by the hysterical predictions of the collapse of Western society if Trump takes office. One is basically apolitical; I have no idea which way that one will go. One is so turned-off by all this that not voting is a serious consideration. That one would’ve been inclined to vote for Biden up until the debate.

That’s also where my wife is: Can’t vote for either one. Can’t stand Trump, but can’t vote for a guy who’s too old to do the job.

Me? One of my kids keeps pressing, and I keep saying I don’t have to make that choice yet. There’s more information to gather. Trump disqualified himself in my view by failing to support the peaceful transition of power last time. What if he was running against Hitler? the kid asks. Well, I said, that’s a pretty low bar, and he’s not.

What if the election were today? If push really came to shove? My guess: Two for Trump, two for Biden, two not voting. Angie and I are waiting until the last possible minute.

Is that a focus group? Maybe it’s a metaphor. I don’t know, but it seems about right. We argue and annoy one another occasionally, we love each other, we root for the Cats, we laugh at the old jokes, we exchange Christmas gifts. We mostly steer clear of politics at the dinner table. And eventually we’ll all make up our minds, and then go back to what we were previously doing.