Lockdown: Week 8
“Come on, Jason! You’ve got this! 2k to go!” A muscular man in a Leeds half-marathon 2013 t-shirt was shouting to his mate who was a shamefully long way behind him.
Jason, hobbling along with sweat pouring down his grimacing face, didn’t seem like he had got it. Not at all. While his mate had the appearance of a man who’s spent lockdown doing YouTube jujitsu classes and posting nutritional recipe videos on Instagram hoping to get Joe Wicks’ attention, Jason looked the sort to have spent his time indoors getting really, really good at the Xbox.
His mate then ran up a hill for a few seconds, turned and sprinted back towards Jason before making, in my opinion, too much a deal of ensuring he remained a safe distance away as he started jogging backwards. Jason looked livid. Fuck this, he must have been thinking. The first person outside my household I’ve met up with in 8 weeks and this is what we’re doing? Let’s get this lockdown tightened up again.
I was on the other side of the road, pushing Joshua along in our wonky buggy (the woman on Gumtree told us it was in perfect nick and sold it for close to the RRP. I’m not bitter though. Totally over it. What buggy?) I was too hot and had given up trying to untangle my headphones to listen to the Adam Buxton podcast, so I wasn’t having a blast either. I was definitely having a better time than Jason though. Jason was having an absolutely shit time.
Aside from being able to exercise with a mate, or the option of going angling with my mother, not much has changed really, has it? I’m still struggling to juggle working from home and being a parent/husband and this past week has been particularly tricky. I was working in the spare room a couple of days ago when Louise walked in. She was carrying Jacob and singing “Wind the Bobbin Up.”
“We’re just going to set the Jumparoo up, Andy,” Louise said. “Don’t mind us.”
“Hmm?”
“Actually, can you just hold him for a sec while I get it out.”
“Yep.”
She clattered around in the cupboard, pulled out all the pieces of the Jumparoo and spent quite a long time fitting them all together. She checked the sound, a jungle-themed disco beat, was working (it was), dusted it off, then said she didn’t think Jacob was old enough to get in after all.
“Right, we’ll be off then,” She said. “Now get on with some work.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Shhh! Keep your voice down, Andy! You’ll startle him!”
The following day, I put Joshua down for his nap before heading back up to the spare room to try and work. Twenty minutes in, deep in thought and staring at the screen, the door flew open and whacked against the wall. I jumped out of my skin. Expecting to see Louise again, perhaps wanting to set up a Skalextric across my desk, I was shocked to see Joshua, jumping up and down, grinning from ear to ear.
“Joshua funny!” he said.
Funny? You’ve just scared the shit out of me, man. Also, how the heck have you managed to climb out of your cot, open a baby gate and walk upstairs on your own, you lunatic? After the excitement of his escape, he was bouncing off the walls so getting him anywhere near his cot was impossible. At one point, I shouted at him despairingly.
“Just go to sleep, for god’s sake!”
He darted through my legs, turned around and giggled.
“Joshua funny!”
The guy is an expert in antagonism. He didn’t nap at all after that which offered a harrowing insight into the future. His 2–3 hour nap in the middle of the day is a beacon to aim for. It’s golden. How the heck do you cope when they get up at 6 am and that’s it? For 13+ hours? I fear we are going to find out sooner than I’m comfortable with.
Technically I’m classed as a key worker but the country seems to have just about kept running despite my less-than-productive working week. Thanks for holding the fort, guys. Speaking of key workers, yesterday I was driving behind a lady in a people carrier who had a massive sticker saying. “I AM A KEY WORKER!” on her rear window. Good on you etc. but what am I supposed to do with that information? Do you want me to give you a round of applause on Otley Road? It seemed a bit boasty. If you really want people to know you’re a key worker, just casually sneak it into your blog. Much more subtle. Earlier today, I woke Jacob up with a loud sneeze and Louise said I was “as subtle as a bat.” I’d not heard this one before? Unless it’s a new simile for coronavirus times?
We had an utterly bizarre walk out on Friday morning. We were strolling along a quiet county road when a man in a white van skidded up to us and wound his window down.
“Have any of yous lot seen a 4x4 driving all over the road? Like a proper nutter?”
Yous lot? Two of us are under the age of 3.
“Nope, sorry,” I said.
No word of thanks, he flew off in his van, leaving us to our relaxing family stroll. A couple of hundred metres down the road, we saw a man wandering around a garden wearing a full-on bright yellow hazmat suit, digging a hole. He looked terrifying. What was his game? Was he cooking meth? Horsforth isn’t a hot-spot as far as I’m aware? We pondered whether the two incidents were linked. What was the significance of the 4x4 driver? Where was he going?
We made it home without any further incident but, that afternoon, continuing my recent form, I struggled to focus on my work again. My mind was racing. Who was the guy in the hazmat suit? What was he digging a hole for? Then a thought struck me. I’ve watched enough Poirot. Who have I seen recently that looked capable of murder?
Had Jason finally snapped?
Thanks for reading! If you’re looking for a lockdown read, my book The Thing Is is currently just £2.50 on Kindle. You can buy it here!
Here are the previous editions:
