Forget Everything And Remember

Needing some crucial supplies (greaseproof paper, cup cake cases and milk, if you really wanted to know), we bundled up against the grey and set off on our expedition into town

It was fascinating to see the children’s reaction to the closed shops and deserted streets with Owen commenting with an uncertain smile: “it’s really weird isn’t it?”.

He wasn’t wrong. We got our bits from an empty Booths and meandered home under the grey sky, watching the faces of people walking in the opposite direction and being struck by the fear in their eyes. 

Social distancing dictates 2 metres, so I try and keep the wee ones fairly close, but even so we were being given a very wide berth to the point of which I checked that a) my flies weren’t undone b) I’d administered the nice aftershave to myself, not the bathroom air freshener again and most crucially c) Matilda hadn’t rolled in sh*t or something. 

But no, it was plain, good ol’ fashioned Fear. It’s back, alive and kicking, and available on a street near you. I know my children are terrifying and that you shouldn’t put your hands too near their mouths, but to see people crossing the path to avoid their potentially infectious frames was at once both good citizenship and utterly heartbreaking.

I was glad to get them all back into the warmth of our little home and hold them a little tighter.

Stay healthy.