So one of the items that sent my parents to pandemic central (aka an overcrowded superstore for groceries) was that there were a few items they could not find in their local (smaller, open-early) store.
Extra frustrating? I had at least one of these items on hand. Have had for a while. Probably since they lived with me. Does not go bad.
But they didn’t realize, and wouldn’t ask anyway lest they be taking something from me that I need.
With respect: dopes. I would rather have them at the end of this ride than any thing that’s in my house. That is not even a question.
If they get themselves sick, I’m going to be so mad.
They also didn’t think to check on whether anyone could ship the items to them. At least some of the items I did not have on hand, I have subsequently had shipped to their house.
Did I mention, dopes?
So anyway. One day this week, Dad popped by to get the items I did have.
Which meant, in practice, that I left the items on my stoop as he was on his way over to get them. No contact, no cheating. This is what social distancing requires.
And here is a memorable little moment, representative of the times: each of us on opposite sides of the door, hands up, separated by plexiglass (which, no, rarely if ever gets touched, but yes, we washed our hands after, and I’ve sanitized the door subsequently in case anyone else does touch it).
But there we were. Through the glass. Almost but not quite touching.
It will have to do, for now.
Stay healthy out there, dear ones. And do what you can to keep everyone else that way too.