Let’s play a game. The little one has a pretty bad fever. The ear thermometer read over 39 and so did the one we stick up his butt. His right eye is a bit pink. Droll pours down from his mouth covering his neck. He refuses food and gags at the sight of a spoon. Diarrhea. What is ailing my son?
In normal times this game would not be so serious. He would’ve picked up any number of germs at the crèche. If the fever persists after a dose of Doliprane we would go to the children’s hospital as a preventative measure. But as every single email from every single colleague (and client and partner and salesperson) points out: these times are unprecedented. Does he have pink eye? A stomach flu? Is it just his molars coming in? Or? Or…
No, I’m not going to overreact. I’m worried enough as it is. He is not coughing. We went through our round of potential covid. As far as I’m concerned we are all already immune. It’s just a baby thing. Leave him in just a diaper to cool off a bit. And cuddles, loads of cuddles.
My wife went to inspect the new house with the current owner and the guy from the real estate agency. She evaded a police check on her bike. News is good.
We will have keys in our hands on Tuesday. She almost cried with joy at seeing the difference between there and here. The rooftop, the sky! They left the plants and the watering system so they are lush. They left the umbrella over the front terrace. They even left the gates around the stairs for the kids. She lamented the wait until the May 15th. How could we stay in our apartment when we had access to this paradise?
The owner works in real estate himself and said that lots of people have moved. All we need is a sort of note explaining the situation from the notary. He knows a few movers who are still operating. Why the hell would we wait?
When my wife got home her smile lit up the entire block. It shone far brighter than the sun. We’re not going to wait for the 15th of May. We’re going to move a lot sooner.
What a difference on my mood! Everything is now cast in a positive light. The confinement is working. Hospitalizations are down. Deaths are stabilizing. Even in NYC Cuomo is saying the worst has past.
I’ve lost three kilos since the start of confinement. It’s mostly muscle mass but I’ll take it. We eat very balanced and well. There is no late night kebabs after 5 pints. No Five Guys at lunch. Other than the chausson de pomme from Sain, there are no real desserts. We snack on radishes and strawberries in the afternoon. We run every morning. Yesterday I didn’t even have anything to drink.
We are spending less money too, which is great since all our accounts dropped to zero last week for the transfer of funds for the house. My wife isn’t shopping. I’m not buying sneakers or cases of wine. There are no fancy dinners at amazing restaurants (and thus no extra babysitting cost). We are paying our babysitter her full normal salary despite the fact that she can’t come and work, but there is no crèche bill. Considering what’s happening to the world economy it’s probably best to spend less.
As much as I complain about how hard it is to be confined together we are lucky to be spending so much time with each other. We’ve gone from spending a few hours a day on weekdays to a full 24 hours. For the kids we are true parents, cooking all their meals and providing all emotional support. To have this time is certainly something special.
And my wife. How do you know if your relationship can stand the test of time? Coronavirus confinement is about a good a test as you could ask for. We celebrated 10 years of being together in early March. At the time we had little idea what was coming a few weeks later, the trial we would face. Quite simply, it would not be possible without her. We balance each other when it gets to be too much. We find joy in the moments we have together. It’s easy for relationships to slip into a platonic status when you spend all of your time together and have nothing to talk about. While we are overwhelmed and exhausted, there has been no dip in love.
When we’re tanning in bathing suits on our new rooftop, grilling up Tony burgers and sipping rosé, it will be thanks to her. Her efforts to get the sale finalized despite the coronavirus were nothing short of heroic.
Here’s to you my choupi!