Plague Update #27 - The Visitation

My parents live a convenient distance from me; close enough to get to if I have to and far enough away to justify not visiting more often.  Since the COVID-19 outbreak though I hadn't seen them at all and was starting to forget what they looked like.  Actually I forgot what they looked like years ago, I just remember their address and assume the people who answer the door are my parents.  If they aren't a number of strangers have been very generous with cooked meals over the years.  I'm easier to remember, they have two offspring and I'm the one they don't see very often.  At worst they have a 50% chance of getting my name right plus they can always plead senility if they muck it up.

Now with travel restrictions (possibly temporarily) eased I drew a trembling breath, committed my soul to God (who promptly returned it unopened) and braved our public transport system to visit the two people who are, collectively, to blame for my existence. 

It all went quite well.  My parents were healthy (healthier than me if I'm being frank) and were quite pleased to see me.  At least that's the impression I gained from the megaphone communications I had with them while they soaked me with various disinfectant sprays.  I thought the acid bath was a little over the top but I must admit my skin has never been so pink and gleaming; oh wait, that's muscle tissue but even so. 

Once we somewhat nervously reconnected as a family we sat down to discuss all the exciting things that had happened to us since last we met.  Nothing; that's what's happened to us, absolutely nothing.  In a way this is a good thing.  The sort of things that are happening to people right now tend to involve a trip to the hospital and excessive use of the word "cluster".  After thirty odd seconds of "catching up" we spent the rest of the time arguing over who had grown the best quarantine beard, a competition my mother thought was rather unfair. 

But even as I was heading home clutching a tin of home made biscuits my mother had given me (at least I'm sure she would have given them to me if she knew I had them) grim news was surfacing in the south.  Suddenly in Victoria new cases were popping up all over the place derailing the gradual reduction of restrictions that had been underway and giving the government a fantastic excuse to talk about something other than the fact that three of their ministers had just resigned for being dishonest, manipulative vermin.  Well, they had been caught being dishonest, manipulative vermin which is absolutely the "thing that must not happen".

Over in Britain somebody has suggested that absence from school is going to give British kids mental health problems.  They didn't come right out and say that spending time with their parents was going to scar the kids for life but that appeared to be the implication.  In my experience almost anything can give you mental health problems, its largely dependent on the state of your mental health at the time.  I just spent several hours with my parents and I feel fine so I've no idea why my stuffed puffin has felt it necessary to hide all of the knives.  Have you ever tried to chop vegetables with a spoon?  It takes forever and by the end of it I was so tired I couldn't even engage in a little puffin "discipline" which is how I've been relaxing at the end of a long day.  Don't worry I know how to avoid leaving bruises.