As a Vaccinated Parent, I Just Remembered I Couldn’t Go Out in the First Place
It’s fine
Back in May, I lined up to get my life-saving vaccine, and I was thrilled to get my life back to normal. What I forgot to realize then was that “back to normal” was staying in all the time with my children.
I get it. You’re all having Hot Vax Summers. We’re having a Crying at the Community Pool While I Scrape My Hand On the Pool Floor Looking for Goggles Summer. I know, I signed up for this. It’s fine.
You all got your birth control renewed. I’m thrilled for you. You’ll all be out all night, screwing each other. I’ll be waking up in the middle of the night telling my kids I don’t care that they’re scared of the dark. It’s fine.
Go join Lorde’s sun cult. I’m gonna make a kid sit through Library Storytime on Zoom. Shoot me in the goddamn face. Y’know what? No. We’ll go into the library in person. That’s much better. The kids love their masks. I just gotta sell all this to them like it’s normal. It’s OK, don’t worry about me.
Go, do shots at the bar. We’re doing shots at Dr. Gallini’s office. They’re not up-to-date.
Ready for a triumphant return to the movies? How about watching the same 20 minutes of Raya and the Last Dragon, on a tablet, over and over and over again? Does that count?
During the lockdowns, we all had so much solidarity, y’know? And I appreciated all the thinkpieces. All the sympathy. Everybody saying, “But you know who has it real bad? The parents. I couldn’t imagine doing what they do.” Damn right. I was soaking that crap up. I was loving every minute of you turds saying that. And it made me feel like we were all in this together.
And it blinded me to the fact that you libertines were going to desert me as soon as you friggin could, and go hog-wild getting wrist-deep in communal 7-layer dips with each other indoors at your air conditioning parties while I sweat my balls off in the backyard trying to think of another thing to do with a softball. There’s only four things to do. There’s articles online that say there are 110+, but they’re written by attractive bloggers who my children will not obey.
I remember the before times. I wasn’t doing anything. The before times is now. It’s fine.
Every single one of you is having fun and I’m not. I know it.
In all sincerity, I’m happy that you’re able to go to the movies and watch the latest hardcore art-porn and go on international vacations without me and actually have functioning, interesting personalities. I’m happy for you. The rest of us will stay back while the birth rate plummets.
Maybe it’d be good if you didn’t renew the birth control. Come back from your vacation tuckered out and knocked up. And become me. I mean, my life is pretty great. I’m happy.
