Crunch time

Popped up to the local Morrisons this morning to get stuff for lunch. Place was heaving and trollies were stacked high. But there was plenty on the shelves as long as you didn’t want toilet roll, chick peas, long life milk or hand sanitiser. Or rice and pasta of course. 

This was the opposite of a zombie movie. People were walking around slowly with a dull expression but avoiding making contact. If anyone coughed it was like a gunshot, with everyone freezing and looking around to make sure it was in another aisle.

The Yoga Mama came down and live streamed the synagogue rather than going in person. Then we spent the day eating, talking, drinking and playing kalooki. The Dizzle performed a few songs from Fiddler On The Roof and tried to get me to do the bottle dance with him but I declined. In the middle of a pandemic the last thing A&Es want is people turning up with an eye full of glass because their version of home entertainment involved age inappropriate cavorting with a hearty Rioja.

We idly predicted a baby boom in nine months if people now had too much time on their hands (and other parts of their anatomy) as a result of normal life being cancelled. Or the opposite, a boom in divorce and separation due to people being forced to spend time together. 

Midwives and family lawyers, gird your loins. There may be trouble ahead ...