Dealing With The Possibility Of Covid And Morons Who Think It's Safe To Come Visit

21 October 2020

Story #1004

R. Linda:

Let's start at the beginning, so everyone is clued in on what my life has become. We will leave out recent events of the funeral kind and go to yesterday's O'Sullivan's breaking news. As you, R. Linda, know, Tonya was sent home when it was found that a teacher and student at her school (and in her class) tested positive for COVID-19. Further, she moved into Sean's camper out back to keep clear of the rest of us.

To keep the kiddo's minds off their Mam, me own little Mam got out the Halloween decorations and got them all busy setting them up. She strung up a garland of fall leaves with pumpkin lights and hanging skeletons and noticed the handmade black cats only went halfway across the garland. Well, she just couldn't have that! So, in keeping Tonya across of the kiddos decorating, she mentioned the clay cats.

Tonya had bought them years ago, and since she was bored in the camper, she looked online for another string. Well, she found one and only one on something called Poshmark. She bought them (for a lot more than she had initially paid for the first set, but having no choice, she put out the bucks) and had them overnighted. An hour after shipping confirmation, she receives an email from the Poshmark seller telling her, "I sold the cat heads." 

Yeah, she sold them to Tonya, as Tonya had the receipt and tracking. That should have been a clue that this purchase would be odd.

Today, the Poshmark package arrived, and I texted me wife and asked her if she wanted me to give the Poshmark package to me Mam. She said yes, but to open it and ensure everything was in one piece. OK then! So the USPS box was the size of what one could put 2 good-sized books in, way too big for what it did contain. I hate those boxes because they are glued so well that you'd have to use a crowbar to pry them open. This I did, and inside was this brown packaging paper that formed a long cylindrical shape. On both ends, brown string was wound tightly and knotted so that there was no untying it. I had to scout out scissors (which in this house is not an easy feat) and cut the strings. I then cut the paper from one end to the other to reveal a massive amount of bubble wrap in a cylindrical shape and taped it completely over it was cello tape. For a blasted moment, I thought this was a jape on me by my wife that Mam had wrapped the package! 

You can attest to Mam's and Tonya's wrapping jobs, for that matter. The two of them wrap everything in bubble wrap and tape the hell out of it! 

So, with trusty scissors, I cut through all that, and it took me a good 20 minutes! Once I had that mess off, I found the thing wrapped in heavy tissue paper! I was like, what the heck? The paper was so heavy, and the scissors were so dull from all the other cutting, that it took me another 30 minutes to cut through all that to find, maybe, eight cat heads strung on a curly wire. I tell ya!

I gave them to Mam, who was happy to have them, but I know I should have let her open them. The total time from the start of opening to the finish was 1 hour and 10 minutes!

For those dumb-looking, grinning cat heads. I wasted me time and almost broke me fingers with dull scissor cutting!

So that done and behind me, I see the youngest standing facing the hallway wall, his shoulders giving away he was quietly sobbing. I approach him and ask, "What's the matter, bud?" And he tells me his tablet charger is broken and he can't play Minecraft (which is something I don't condone, but my wife got it for him, so there's THAT). This was a good thing to me, but to HIM, it was the end of the world. He burst into tears, thinking that his life was over and that now he had nothing to do, and woe was him. He slammed his way upstairs, slammed the door to his room, and wailed. Yes, he wailed; he did! He never gave me a chance to say I'd look at it, but with all THAT going on up there, I decided to wait until later to re-approach the subject. 

Not long after, Mam came to me and berated me for not going up and seeing what I could do to remedy the tablet situation. She stopped by the door and went in when she heard the pitiful sobbing. My youngest accused me of being a criminal because I didn't care enough to fix the charger. I tell ya!

Me emotions are a jumble with COVID and Tonya and her not feeling well. Well, it's all been a wee bit much, it has.

Once the wee one was taken care of, my middle child informed me that two people in the driveway came to see Tonya. I was like, WHAT? The middle one was complaining because these two people came zooming down our driveway, and he was out with the two puppies and was signalling them to SLOW DOWN! They did, and when they saw the puppies, they stopped the car and, with no social distancing or wearing masks, were about to get out of the car and come see the dogs. Well, Guido is no fool. His mother may have COVID-19, and he doesn't want it. And who are these people anyway? STAY BACK!

I went outside, and there, standing by their car, were these two people. She was a teacher's aide who worked at the school, and he was the boyfriend. Wearing a mask and trying to keep my distance I asked them if I could help them, and they said they were there to see how Tonya was (I was thinking a phone call or text would have been a better option), and they heard about the pups, and HE had never seen a collie before so . . . Oh boy.

Meanwhile, Guido comes out with a homemade sign that says, "Slow it down! Children and Pets at Play." With a few tacks and a hammer, he puts the sign up on the driveway, giving them side glances as he pounded away. 

I was as nice as possible and explained to them that we were a family in quarantine and that stopping over wasn't a good idea. They, in turn, informed me they were Trumpers, COVID was a hoax, and face masks (like I was sporting) were dangerous. OK, TIME FOR YOU BOTH TO LEAVE!

Just a few minutes ago, I went to the top of the long driveway with my homemade sign. It says, "ROAD CLOSED"—let's hope it does the trick, eh?

Gabe

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