Adventures with the Toddler – Chapter Thirty-two: The Coronavirus Diaries

When I was a moody teen – sitting in my dark bedroom for days on end writing manic poetry and masturbating incessantly, isolation was fun.

Stuck in an apartment with the wife and two little children – ain’t like those heady days. Not just because I’m asked if I’m going to have a poo or a wee when I step into the bathroom, or because the toddler invented “party porridge” and excretes green or blue turds due to the invention, not because I’m around them every second of every single day; no – it’s not like the carefree days of throwing care to the wind and making acrobatic shadow puppets. In this isolation scenario, I never have the remote and someone has always eaten the last banana.

Government imposed anything always fills me with fear, but when it’s these clowns making stuff up as they fumble through the orgy of darkness they created – I’m utterly terrified. The powers they have given themselves in order to force people into fever wards, must have Dutton’s shorts at full-stretch. Yet, it appears it’s only boats holding poor people that are stopped while the rich may infect the fucking lot of us. Incompetence, thy name is the LNP.

Now, don’t get me wrong folks, I’m glad these brain-dead Murdoch playthings finally listened to a scientist and implemented the 14 day self-isolation. It will save lives, (if people adhere to it) and stop calling this thing “just a cold.” They could have put the country into lockdown, given every worker a wage while we waited it out and done mass testing to ensure a healthy workforce – but if something would actually work, then these no-no’s don’t understand it. I hate them more than I can stress. But we move on.

For me, with two little kids whose entire world is touching things and then rubbing their faces, my face, their mums’s face, the neighbours face and licking any window they can reach — it’s a nightmare that has at least empowered me to describe this thing to the toddler as a “bad guy”. The toddler, ya see, is currently obsessed with bad guys who kill everyone. I have no idea where this came from, but I want to show it SCARFACE so bad it hurts. So, the virus is the bad guy, so we must wash our hands well and the toddler certainly knows how to do that now.

Life, lately, has been nothing but stressful. I don’t believe the kid immunity thing to this virus for a damn second. I think it’s total bunk and I’m going to play it safe and keep them washed and lathered until the science finally comes in and actually proves it. If I’m wrong that’s awesome! If I’m not…

Coronavirus, I loathe thee, not just for showing us that people care more for their arseholes than their fellow humans, not just because you royally screwed up a bloody special holiday, not just because you’ll make people I love sick, not just because I’m isolated with two little kids, one of whom is a threen-ager who argues with every single directive I give it. Not just because you cost me my job. I loathe thee as you’ve cut-off my supply line to Dan Murphy’s. Jimmy Brings, just doesn’t have the range.

I’ve seen some shit in my time and I ain’t seen no shit like the Coronavirus. I lived through Bros, Waa Waa Nee, The Proclaimers, those Right Said Fred Guys and Oasis – and now my family’s live are in danger because someone in China did an Ozzy Osbourne on a bat???? (unsubstantiated).

So – the trip.

We arrived in Buenos Aires excited for a fun time. I had been told of the barbecues and being a guy that loves steak and red wine, I was in for a real treat. We had made a plan of what we wanted to see and do over the 17 days we were away. Then the corona done put the kibosh on all our plans. The truth is, we couldn’t relax and things escalated rapidly. The holiday was basically a day on a plane, two lunches, everyone getting stressed by what was coming through the media and friends telling us the Australian borders were going to be shut and to get out. So we did. Just in time. I won’t go into it all as it leads down a path of disappointment and fear. Fear not just for ourselves, but fear projected from the locals onto us. There was a distrust that grew faster than the virus.

There was fun in those couple of days before it all went sideways and the times we weren’t sanitizing our hands or freaking out if we touched the door of an Uber.

The baby and toddler learnt to say “hola”. So there was that.

Short story short, we managed to scramble flights back to Australia by flying half way around the world and then back again.

Now in self-isolation, we have enough pasta and white rice to bring about the diabetes. We have a big TV that I never get to watch. The rent is due and that fills me with dread. We have the NBN so it’s like being back in the 80’s waiting for the Commodore 64 to load the game that came on the cassette tape. We have a small amount of alcohol and that is my main concern. Although, the wife will probably kill me long before we run out of booze as I think she’s finally seen through my bullshit. But it will probably be because I place the dishes in the sink instead of the dishwasher.

Well, the travel blog will now be about self-isolating as we all go quickly insane. Should be fun.

I’m off to make a quarantini and fight with idiots on Twitter.

Wash your hands folks! Wash them well and wash them often.

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