Life in quarantine: A simple story in long-winded prose fit for the times
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| Don't be fooled by this photo. |
As I sit here typing on my phone about life at this moment, I am laughing at what is going down in my kitchen. My wife is fast asleep, and our two children are alternating between bickering and giggling. It’s getting loud, but it quiets for short bursts.
“They’re fine,” I tell myself.
Upon picking up my iPad to read while they eat, I’ve noticed that my son has changed the settings, so everything is in German.
Not up for a stroll through my settings to switch things back to English and also not wanting to let this 11-year old have the satisfaction of winning, I scroll through my photos on my phone instead.
I see all of these lovely pictures of a happy family in quarantine. Our cooking adventures with the children, family walks, playing basketball as a family, and even some online learning success. It’s all documented so I can prove to myself that we’re doing this the right way. Smiling, cuddling, acting goofy.
Simultaneously, my sweet 7-year-old daughter stomps through the kitchen and says, “Jesus Christ!” in that under her breath, but loud enough to hear sort of way. (This language exploration is a new development by the way. I swear!) She slams her fork in the sink and threatens to take away the syrup from the table. Seriously, we are fighting over syrup?!
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I am a bored dad taking a photo of a duck sighting in
the back yard. This is what it has come to in April 2020. |
The argument about whether Roya really saw a duck in our yard turned into a 10-second shouting match. I also saw the duck, but this isn’t my fight. Not today. Roya gives up trying to convince him. Good move, sweetie. Good move.
Her brother has syrup smeared on his right cheek, and his waffle carcass is strewn about his plate. There are even scraps on the table. I have no idea how eating waffles is such a monumental challenge. He gently mocks his sister and somehow gets her to smirk.
Mind you, she made him breakfast because “he always does it for me,” which is actually true. The boy makes her breakfast and snack bags regularly. Just five minutes prior, she asked me to take a picture of the breakfast. Aren’t they cute?
Within seconds the two of them are talking about neighborhood adventures, a business plan for cookie sales, and plans for today that include building things and “getting outside if it’s done freezing!”
Since I don’t have a workshop, I know that building things means destroying the toy room. I’m OK with that. They might even clean it up without a fight?
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| Cheerios in the sink, dishes piling up and broken stuff. Life. |
Upon clearing the table from breakfast, both children complain to me about our broken drippy faucet that “you keep telling mom you will fix.” Also true. (Sadly, I do not own tools. A weak excuse in the YouTube age, I know.)
Perfect timing because on cue, the semi-detached faucet falls into the sink and breaks a plate. They both remind me that I should have fixed the faucet. Their attitude about it is kind of like, “Oh well,” and they saunter into the toy room.
So. Damn. Quiet.
Now they are negotiating the construction of a mansion in the toy room. My children are fighting over “concepts” and how to turn a bedroom into a home office. It is clear to me that our HGTV viewing has been educational (Love It or List It is a family favorite!).
They hear me laughing as I write from my couch, and they ask what is so funny. I ignore them, shifting my focus to my next move. My goal is to keep everything peaceful and every calculation is prudent. Weekend mornings are designed for everyone to remain quiet while my wife sleeps in after working 50+ hours per week.
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| Moments of glory . |
Folks, real life.
We fight.
We cry.
We laugh.
We play.
Most of all, though, we’re just doing what we need to move through our days trying not to take for granted that we’re pretty damn lucky - or as they say in German - Ich fühle mich glücklich.
