This morning during the short drive to summer camp, Maverick and I were talking about the virus. We all know which one. I don’t need to type it out.

“If an 11-year-old can understand the importance of wearing a mask, what is wrong with all of these adults running around without one?” His face reddened with anger.

WORD.

He’s worried about his grandparents and his great-grandparents. My kid, who already suffers from anxiety, chews his fingers until they bleed. He can’t understand how anyone would refuse to do something as simple as wearing a face covering in public, an act that shows respect and concern for our fellow humans. I mean, I don’t get it either — I have no explanation to offer him.

In our house, we believe in science. We have spirituality, too, although we don’t have a name for it — I tell the kids that something looks out for us, and I call that power God. Even though I’m unsure of God’s location or gender or even how much of the Bible is rooted in reality, I know there is a God, I know I am not God, and therefore, I do NOT need to know the details about how God chooses to operate. Because at the end of the day, why does it matter?

So back to the virus. There are countless conspiracy theorists out there producing countless conspiracy theories and I just don’t have the energy to even.

Guys.

There is so much actually happening … how do you have the mental capacity to come up with this extra stuff that may or may not be going on behind the scenes? Every time I start going down a rabbit hole online I get like 2 pages in and I’m like, NOPE. Just nope. Don’t have the bandwidth. Can’t. Real life is already crazy enough, I cannot handle additional crazy.

I cleaned my office this week and came across a few Christmas presents I never got around to wrapping or gifting to my friends. I think nothing could EVER BE MORE APPROPRIATE.

Speaking of bitter, our 8-year-old, Asher, is having his tonsils and adenoids removed tomorrow. I’m not bitter about that — I’m actually excited for him because he hasn’t been able to breathe properly since infancy. I thought it was allergies, so we had him tested. It wasn’t.

Then I thought it maybe since he shot out so fast at birth, maybe something was defective in his facial structure? Like, can that happen? Reddit says it can.

Anyway, multiple tests and scans later, we learned that his adenoids are enormous — what does that even mean? I plan to find out tomorrow. Are we talking golf ball size? — and blocking his nasal passages.

The part I’m bitter about is this: my husband picked our health insurance plan and I’m sure he pragmatically selected the cheapest one because that is how husbands are, and our family deductible is an actual pile of money. By that I mean I could withdraw said money from a bank, but I’d have to get a loan first, and I would have such a large pile that I could lie down on the floor in it and make a deductible angel.

Since Asher’s surgery is really important, because hello — our kid can’t smell anything — I figured 2020 should be the year that I finally address my messed up asshole.

The asshole repair deserves its own post. You’ll have to wait for that one.

(It will be worth waiting for.)

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