I have met the enemy
I received a text from Daughter yesterday lunchtime.
She has The Virus, as does Granddaughter the Younger, and both have tested positive. Seeing as Granddaughter the Elder already had it, it was inevitable they would succumb [as I predicted *cough*]. I asked about Grandson but he is self isolating as usual – he’s been self isolating in his room for years ever since he got an iPad. No one knows how he is.
So anyway I asked if they needed anything. Daughter said no, that GtE was much better now and would walk the dog down to buy bread and stuff from the pharmacy.
I pointed out that yesterday was Sunday and the pharmacy was closed. I told her I was going down to the village anyway so that was grand.
I went down in the hail and rain and met Friend for coffee at the coffee shop. There was a freezing wet wind so we actually sat indoors but that was fine. It’s only the second time I have sat indoors. The first time was when I met same Friend and there was some fucker yelling deafening tacky songs into a speaker system outside as some kind of tourist initiative [tourists in January?].. Out of courtesy to friend I didn’t spark up the pipe. As we parted we shook hands as I refuse under any circumstances to do that stupid tacky virtue-signalling “elbow bump”.
I did my shopping and tootled up to Daughter’s place. I barged in as usual and nearly got flattened by the dogs, as usual. Daughter was there screeching at me to keep my distance with a towel wrapped around her face. I told her not to be silly and did she want her bread, milk and fruit or not. She retreated backwards down the hall so I put her stuff on the floor and went off home.
So there you have it. I have shaken hands with a recent victim and have stood in a room not three feet from a Live Victim [does that count as a Close Contact?].
If I don’t catch it now, I never will.
Middle son, daughter in law, grandaughters all got it. Daughter in law suffering the most being sick , The 3 year old grandaughters recovered after three days
When someone tries the elbow bump, resort to giving a swift kick to the shin. (Left or right, dealers’ choice.)
I never had any time for that elbow bump shite. When my Dad died, my head teacher offered his elbow and I turned away. If you can’t shake hands with someone, then just don’t bother.