Sarah Roush

Sarah Roush

It feels like week 3,712 of the Stay at Home order for COVID-19. I find myself getting increasingly annoyed with…everything.

My hair is starting to look like it was styled by a member of The Beatles; I am bored with my own cooking and have been impersonating a cow by grazing all day long. I am fairly certain sporting elastic waistbands all summer is going to be my best option and I have reached the point where an hour spent slowly strolling through the local Big Lots store sounds like a pretty good time. I’m not in a serene state of mind.

Having a little one in the house means no privacy… ever. If I’m able to get a door closed and locked for a few minutes, there is a child channeling his inner banshee on the other side. His shrieks of protest and wailing over the cruel fate of abandonment negates any sense of peace, even as a tiny little hand squeezes under the door as a token of his grief. Of course, as soon as the door is open, he pops right up and shows no interest in you, he just wants to know where I hid the Easter candy.

I have been trying to work from home, which is a challenge in a tiny house like ours. Sparky, our son, is constantly at the door, wheedling for me to come out to play dinosaurs. Considering this game is a constant repeat of him (the carnivore) — chasing you (the herbivore) and then stomping, flogging, chomping and finally eating you. This game goes on for hours. Same results every time.

Since I play the role of herbivore, bruises are collateral damage to the “epic battle”. After a couple of days, I have started to look like a connect-the-dots game. I suspect the manufacturers of those dinosaurs use brick dust to make the carnivores since they weigh a lot and feel like rocks, the herbivores are made with something less substantial, like stale marshmallow peeps.

Other times, he quietly slides books under the door and then while on the other side, you hear him announce, “you need to review this file and report back immediately.” Most recently, the books are “The You We Adore” and “Life,” lovely children’s books given to him upon his adoption from his CASA worker and the local school librarian. Other times, it is the classic, “I am a Bunny”. Thankfully, his dinosaur encyclopedia won’t fit under the door, so it easier to ignore that plea.

Arts and crafts times for him have been interesting, on Monday, we played with a can of shaving cream. Mainly, we used it to remove the Sharpie marks he made all over his face and arms, but he thought it was great fun smearing it on his cheeks and forehead as he played in the bathtub as the “shaving-creamasaurus” pretending to beat up and eat half a dozen other dinosaurs. Tuesday, he used playdough to cast dinosaur footprints; we marveled at the different shapes made by T-Rex, oviraptor and stegosaurus, Then, he decided to cast footprints of our cats; on the carpet. Which did not go over well with any breathing creature in the house.

Other discoveries this week include why we don’t turn the mixer on high after adding flour to the cookie dough, why chickens will chase you if they see you carrying their feed bucket and that wild baby bunnies and snapping turtles need to stay outside. He has also discovered that spiders will cast webs across sliding boards, worms are slimy and mommy and daddy both dislike it when you drink out of the water bucket for the dog.

I am not alone in thinking this stupid virus had better be running its course soon, our household would benefit from some social interaction other than ourselves. Until the “all clear” signal is given; stay safe and stay engaged.

Written and submitted by Sarah Roush for The Circleville Herald. The views of this column may not necessarily reflect that of the newspaper.

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