The Boy

A Little Getaway

Coronapalooza continues to affect our daily lives. I still need to remind my little Miracles of Christ to bring a mask with them when we leave for school. Make sure people have a mask when they go to work. Make sure I have a mask. Masks, masks, everywhere masks.

We also need to do a little extra coordinating if we want to go out to eat. There are seven of us. I don’t even know what the regulations are anymore. I don’t know what the limits are for parties at restaurants. Sometimes we’ll have two separate tables. I try to lobby for a table of two and a table of five. I figure the children can take care of themselves and wife and I can have a chance to catch up and discuss whatever strategies we need for an upcoming task or challenge. This is hard because the children (the teenagers), despite being reminded we are in public (which means we all have to act normal), feel the need to verbally assault one another and criticize each other for their sophomoric behavior. These instances of showing off their immaturity will sometimes include a physical assault on one’s person. Again, wife says she doesn’t have teenagers. She has toddlers.

We recently tried to spend a couple of days at a hotel. We thought some time in the pool and walking around Boston would be a great way to spend a couple of days. When we got there, we found out the pool was closed (not blaming the guy at the front desk unless he designs the website). That put a little wrinkle in our plans. No problem. We could still find other things to do. One day, we decided to visit the U.S.S. Constitution and museum. This got me excited (see “The Valley Forge Death March”). I was totally up for that, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw Old Ironsides. The first time I did visit was when my grandparents took me and my brother one day after school. I was about the same age as The Oppressed is now.

We got to the ship. It was closed because of the ‘Rona. I thought being outside would minimize the chance of contracting it. I guess not. We went to the museum. As soon as we got inside, we were informed by the nice person behind the desk (and barrier) that the museum was closed because of the ‘Rona. Exhibits, enclosed in glass cases, had sheets draped around them… To protect them from the ‘Rona, I guess. Wife and I looked at each other. What were we going to do? The nice person behind the desk (and barrier) did inform us that their gift shop was open. The ‘Rona can’t get you there.

We went to the gift shop. The gaggle bought snacks and drinks. It had been a few hours since they last had some tonic, so they were suffering from withdrawal; and what’s a drink without snacks? You can’t have one without the other. I’ve learned a lot from teenagers.

I walked around the gift shop. The Boy, The Oppressed and I saw toy muskets for sale. I gave a quick lesson on how they worked and the process that was involved in loading and firing one, reminding them that you had to do all that while people were firing at you. After the impromptu history lesson, I found some coloring books, decks of cards and other “fun” (for me) things to do to while we were in our hotel room. The decks of cards are still unopened. In the middle of the excitement of finding the dated, mundane, toys and diversions, I forgot the children had brought screens with them. How foolish of me. Why bore yourself to tears with “War” or “Go Fish” with someone right in front of you when you can play Roblox or Minecraft with someone, anyone, remotely?

It certainly wasn’t what we were expecting. Not much is these days for anyone here. Oh, well. At least we were able to hang out together and get outside for some exercise and fresh air. Wife was able to get away from her work for a little bit. We were able to get away and we had some good stories to tell the dog.

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Categories: The Boy

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