Corona hit our family in August.
Two of our children tested positive. That meant Brody and I had to also get tested and then quarantine with them.
And it went like this ...
The TestBrody and I waited in our car for the nurse to come out and swab us. My husband was in a frenzy as he’d heard how deep they’d stick the swab up each nostril.
Me: “I’ve given birth to three kids. I can handle it.”
Husband: “Well I’ve never given birth, so that doesn’t help me.”
Me: “Yeah. That’s unfortunate for you because it’s gonna hurt like heck. Just don’t let them see you cry!”
Someone flinched. Twice! And it wasn’t me.
Negative. For both of us!
Suffice to say we two negatives were pretty ticked with the two positives, because we were all now stuck in the house together.
Day 1 thru 7 we watched the two positives as they laid around eating Pop Tarts, watching Netflix marathons and not doing anything because “we have Rona!”
Thankfully their illness had no symptoms but that didn’t stop them from being complete sloths.
On the other hand, my husband and I spent our days either working by Zoom or constantly disinfecting behind the two positives. And of course checking our oxygen and temperature every hour upon the hour, because my husband believes if you even say the word corona, he will catch it.
Day 8, after picking up silver Pop Tart wrappers from all around the house, I was done!
“Get up, put real clothes on and meet me outside for your list of chores” is what I texted the sloths.
“But we have Rona!”
Day 8 thru 14, they worked like they’ve never worked before. Gutters cleaned, fence painted, attic cleared, kind of work.
While my husband and I social distanced from them, eating Pop Tarts and watching Netflix. (Hey. It kept the positives healthy and we weren’t taking any chances.)
On Day 15 we finally were given the all clear! Thankful we made it through. And to be honest, my house looks the best it’s ever looked and now my kids will think twice before catching anything again.
And of course, we have collectively given up Pop Tarts.
Telling Tales is written by Wilson County’s Angel Kane and Becky Andrews. This column is Angel’s.