My younger son sent a photo: "Just got my chip implanted!" My older one got his a while back, my daughter needs one but can't get it because she'd not yet eighteen, and there there's ancient me: I'm boostered. I'm jonesing for a fourth . . . or a cure. The holidays are here, those awkward phone calls: "And you got your third shot when? Oh, you didn't? And, uh, shall we all get rapid tests before we come to your house? Oh, you don't think we need to do that? How about we take a walk? Please don't get offended . . ."
We're doing the right thing, but the right thing feels so wrong. We would rather deck the halls and down the drinks with all our relatives and friends. Instead, the kids and I enjoyed potato dumplings, red cabbage with apple, and duck (for me and the other carnivore) but vegan cordon bleu for the family vegans. It all went down well with a little Prosecco and some red wine. We watched about half of Jurassic Park before falling asleep in front of the TV. I'm just trying to get up the energy to brush my teeth.
Here's my favorite holiday music:
No comments:
Post a Comment