my parents drove to florida two fridays ago. they drove home this past monday & tuesday. we weren’t sure when they were planning on coming back, but we knew they didn’t have any sort of quarantine plan in place for themselves. so my sister let me stay on her couch for two weeks starting tuesday. since march, whenever i was over at her house, i would wear my mask inside and eat outside. it’s a manageable situation when i only had to take lunch breaks or step out to chug fruit snacks (when teaching the kid about my diabetes i had to explain why i was eating fun, sugary food at random times and why i couldn’t share it. i told her it was “sugars” and so she calls it “sugars” and now i call it “sugars” even when i’m not around her, even though i’ve been calling them tablets or gushers or like, whatever their real names are for twenty years. funny what kids do to ya, eh?), but now that i’m sleeping and showering and eating three meals i have to take my mask off inside. i did that for the first time on tuesday night, right before i sat down for dinner. it was terrifying. i couldn’t help but think i was instantly fumigating them with my breath.
i don’t know what is scarier to me: the idea that i’m actively harming my sister’s family or the idea that they trust me to not. and these fears aren’t specific to a pandemic.
anyway, it’s so much easier to get the baby to open her mouth or smile, now that she can see me doing it too.