“A virus,” they said.
“Voluntary quarantine,” they suggested.
Ooze, I became.
Daily functions relegated only to survival.
Eat, feed children, do laundry, sleep, repeat.
All under the same roof, all by the same ooze.
“School is closed for the rest of the year,” they said.
“Remote learning,” they suggested.
Oozier, I became.
Eat, feed children, teach, do laundry, sleep, repeat.
All under the same roof, all by the oozier ooze.
Hunting and gathering on Instacart and Amazon, I began.
Find baby wipes on Instacart! Diapers on Amazon! No toilet paper anywhere.
A few days later, look on Amazon again, and find a huge box of toilet paper or $45! I triumph!
Hardened ooze, I became.
Hunt, gather, eat, feed children, teach, do laundry, sleep, repeat.
All under the same roof, all by a hardened ooze.
“Re-opening,” they said.
“Wear masks everywhere,” they suggested.
Order washable masks online with patterns we like, I make best of a bad situation.
Mudskipper trekking out of the primordial ooze, I became.
Put on mask, hunt, gather, eat, feed children, teach, do laundry, repeat.
All under the same roof, all by a mudskipper.