Back in the Bunker

I’m still alive!

I’ve spent most of the summer sheltering in place in the middle of nowhere and as Robert Frost once famously stated that has made all the difference.

I have been somewhat immune to the power of the coronavirus as its barely reared its ugly head in my former (and soon to be current again) location. My daughter and I have had the privilege of running around the woods and swimming in a lake and in general staying away from things like the news and the white house press briefings.

All of this, of course, comes with a price and that price is reverting to childhood and living with my parents. Most of the time this is fine – they are old, can’t hear very well and go to bed very early. But I still find myself rolling my eyes behind their backs and rebelling against home rule in sly but subtle ways. The difference now is that at 4:00 everyday my Mom and I have happy hour together and sometimes drink enough wine to blur the line between parent and child. I also have an ally in my daughter and my nephew who both also rolls their eyes at Nana and share private jokes with me about getting old.

My biggest fears right now are ticks and how many spiders are crawling in my mouth while I sleep… trust me that place is teeming with spiders.

This week I am home, and it is literally 100 degrees outside and I can’t visit anyone or do anything  because I’m not going out there… It is nice to see my husband (who only stops working for about 2 and a half hours every day) and pet my dog who has been woefully neglected this summer, but I’m ready to switch out the four outfits I wore all summer for a different four outfits and hit the road again.

The bunker has weathered the summer quite nicely without me –it makes sense that when my child and I are removed from the equation spaces stay nicer and less messy. Two hours after arriving at my parent’s house in June the entire thing was covered in glitter and nearly half of the porch had been sectioned off to make way for Barbie land – 30 square feet of bedrooms, shopping malls and fashion runways. In reserve it only took half that time when we arrived back to home to completely take over the living room that (apparently) had been mess-free for two solid months. I try so hard to remind my husband that the chaos and debris that follow me around is simply part of my charm – he (for some reason) does not believe me and rolls his eyes every time I try to convince him otherwise.

There has been a lot of eye rolling this summer.

6 thoughts on “Back in the Bunker

      1. No, no, no, no, no. Camp is now a glitter-free zone. I have been steam mopping since you left and it is almost gone. NO MORE GLITTER. Also, there is a certification course you will have to pass before returning on the difference between recyclable and returnables. Miss you. Xoxoxoxo

  1. “30 sq. ft. of Barbie land” – oh that’s good. My family and I just returned from two weeks at my parents’ place at the beach and I empathize with your experience. My parents are each 91 (so I must cut them some slack); safe to say my dad will parent me ’til his dying day. Further, my son and his family joined us (daughters age 2-1/2 and 7 months). The house was covered with kid stuff in minutes. Apparently I’ve forgotten how much you need to raise little ones 🙂

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