Sunday afternoon, while most of the country—and much of the world—was reeling from the big news and madly scrolling thru social media updates, my daughter and I were laughing uproariously for about two straight hours.

No, we didn’t find news of Joe Biden stepping aside amusing and surely not guffaw-level. We were in an Off-Broadway theater watching a hilarious comedy (“The Play That Goes Wrong”), blissfully unaware of the news.

We hadn’t checked our phones en route to or on arriving at the theater, nor during intermission, and not even when we came out of the theater. Afterward, we relaxed outdoors in a little park next door, happily reliving favorite scenes from the play.

I’m just as guilty of FOMO as the next person, and in this world at this time, we’re all pretty guilty of it, but on this particular afternoon stretching into evening, I was busy reveling in quality time with my adult daughter for the first time in six months.

We casually strolled over to the subway station, stopping for an overpriced NY pretzel, and then headed to a pizza place. (My “special” request was “no gourmet pizza, nothing special—just good old-fashioned New York pizza”). And the place she chose in her Astoria neighborhood came through perfectly.

We meandered back to her apartment, a 20-to-30 minute walk, stopping in antique shops or looking in windows. After we got back to her apartment, neither of us felt any need to check our phones. We watched a favorite episode of Parks and Rec she wanted me to see because of a scene of physical comedy reminiscent of the performance we’d just seen.

At about 8:30 we called my husband and chatted about the play. Soon after, though not immediately, he said “You know what happened today, of course.” (Duh.)

No, what?

He told us, we gasped, then we all laughed, incredulous that we had been off the grid during the biggest news in months.

Did we feel bad at not being in the loop with everyone else?

Not remotely.

Our seven or so hours off the grid were among the highlights of my visit. Looking back at how we’d casually passed the time, we were actually grateful for our ignorance. None of the news was actionable, nothing required an instant immersion in the facts.

I pointed out that our generation can always tell you where we were when LBJ said he wasn’t running for reelection and where we were when Nixon said he was resigning. Surely this one was similar.

This time, where were we? On the phone several hours later.

I know we’ll remember that, too.