Parenting friends confess to locking themselves in closets, moving up the cocktail hour, being comatose during Zoom meetings or forgetting them completely. One pleaded with her boss for time off, another’s kid kept hitting his arm with a keyboard while he was on a job interview. A lot of them admitted that they’ve let out a primal scream at some point in their day.
A storm’s coming so I call the son, see if he wants to go down to the pier and watch it roll in. We have about twenty minutes before bands of rain arrive and the wind picks up. He says he’s in and off we go.
If this was the before time, I would have not stopped at the fifth rewrite of this morning’s post about the virtual dinner party we had on Saturday.