Lockdown Lessons

I’m of the firm opinion that families are only meant to spend two weeks a year together full-time, and for that duration an all-inclusive restaurant should be provided along with infinity pool and swim up bar.
The last 6 weeks have fallen woefully short of these requirements. I am the reluctant chef in this establishment and the nearest we’ve come to a swimming pool is our bath – and most family members have lost the will to use that.
On the up-side, all this together-time has allowed me to discover things about my family that previously eluded me. Here’s what I’ve learned:

Eva. This kid is endlessly creative. If it stays still long enough, she’ll dye it. Every single bottle of bleach in the house has been used to tie-dye perfectly good clothes. She thoughtfully put the bottles back after using them. Empty.
She dyed her hair pink, but, sadly, the only thing that changed colour permanently after that experiment was the grouting in the bathroom. Then she decided to go blonde. Thankfully, we don’t have to see anyone for a while. Are orange roots fashionable? Asking for a friend…

Isla. She is not a little girl any more. She comes down every morning, switches on her computer and logs into school. In her breaks she Face Times her friends and they chat about things I will never be party to.
In the normal scheme of things these realisations would come incrementally but, in this bonkers situation, time seems compressed. When she bakes cakes without asking me to help with the oven, or makes herself pasta and pesto for lunch (no plastic ham and salad cream sandwiches for today’s youth) a part of me craves the toddler who needed me to help put on her shoes.

John. He is living his best life. This man was built for lockdown. He can work 12-hour days in the garden office without interruption. He doesn’t have to invent reasons to turn down invitations because the Government has done it for him, and he doesn’t have to feel guilty about not making it to the gym. I am coming to terms with fact that he has rejected traditional society and may never come out of isolation – a suburban Grizzly Adams with a slightly neater beard…and no bear.

Me. I have learned that my family are mortal. Prior to this I tootled along, happy in my presumption that we would all live average-length lives. I have blithely considered how to make the most of the remaining 32 years I’m predicted to live. Now the rules have changed and previously healthy people are gasping to pull oxygen into blighted lungs, and my family are more vulnerable than they have ever been. I don’t like it.

On a more cheerful note, I’ve also discovered Isla makes a cracking Victoria sponge, and if Eva keeps practicing on her own hair, she might be up to doing my roots before lockdown ends, so every cloud…

And until all this is behind us and we are allowed the luxury of travel again, I will feast my eyes on holiday websites offering all-inclusive 2 week holidays, infinity pools and dream of swim-up bars.