April 5, 2020
T-2 to lockdown
The world is under siege by an invisible foe and I am 37. If the statistics are to be believed, I only have a 0.2 percent chance of dying if I ever get sick from COVID-19.
I’m more likely to expire from some other ailment — like a cardiac arrest after being stuck in a 1,100 sq ft, two-bedroom home with two boys under 7 and a workaholic husband or coronary artery disease from making too many back and forth trips to the most exciting corner of our home after the bathtub: the refrigerator.
Since it is the weekend and most Singaporeans are at IKEA for some reason, we decided to take our boys to one place we will miss most once everything is closed — the zoo — but not before calling up to check on the crowds.
“Yes, please come. It’s very quiet today,” answers the lady on the phone, almost pitifully.
And that was how we ended up in a near-empty zoo on a Sunday.
The weather — all dark clouds and cool winds — echoed of our moods, but my anxiety dissipated when we saw Asian elephants bathing in the river, baboons roughhousing with each other, and of course, the giant tortoises (our collective favorite), oblivious to the world’s problems.
Everyone had a good chuckle when Ari yelled, “Momma, look! A triceratops!” while pointing at a rhino.
I was also relieved to see the free-roaming tamarins from Colombia behind glass enclosures. There were just news reports of a Bronx zoo tiger testing positive for the virus — it was probably infected by an asymptomatic zookeeper, but I suppose you can never be careful when it comes to helpless animals in captivity. Not only that, the performances were all cancelled and so was the tram that takes visitors around the park.
2020 should be cancelled as well.
I think that our fear of pathogens are now bordering on irrational.
No surface is devoid of germs and wiping them all out would akin to erasing all the stars from the universe. With this in mind, I still yelled at my kids for touching everything in sight. It was like telling Paris Hilton to put on some clothes or the Kardashians to stop procreating and I immediately felt bad for disrupting the natural world order.
We ordered takeaway for dinner but the udon arrives in plastic bowls. The world is already smothered in plastic so I am not too pleased with our decision. It looks like we will be eating home-cooked meals even on weekends.
While I will certainly miss slipping into a slinky dress and participating in convivial conversations on such a night out, the Metropolitan Opera will be streaming free performances every night this week so I’m happy it needn’t be a painful experience.
I suppose this is the best thing to ever happen to the husband, who has ridiculously high cholesterol numbers but is unable to resist a good steak. We’ll eat healthily. We’ll save some money. Everyone wins. Right?
We’ll see.
