Quarantining as the only parent is a bit like camping. I’m not really someone who enjoys camping, but camping with someone you love is exciting.
The stars, the crickets, the owls, the coyotes.
The snuggling.
The cozy conversation : “If you could travel to any star or planet which one would it be?” “I would choose the brightest twinkling star, because that’s how I’d know you were there.”
The scared conversation: “What was that weird sound?” “Just a screech owl, don’t worry honey, we’ll be just fine. I’ll protect you.”
I feel like I’m camping alone right now. I can do it. I can identify all of the *sounds*, I’ve got all of the *camping* equipment.
It’s lonely now, though.
There is no cozy conversation.
There is no one beside me sleepily saying: “Don’t worry honey, we’ll be fine. I’ll protect you.”
