Well, happy Lockdown! We’re now on day…uhm. Who really gives a crap anymore? I’m not even certain what day of the week it is. This lockdown has been immensely frustrating.

The frustrations include income, homeschooling (made easier by dedicated and adaptable teachers) and general socialization. The girls are sick of each other, they are sick of us, and frankly, we can use a break from them too.

I can elaborate, but we know there are others who are having a rougher time with the lockdown. So that is the extent you’ll hear about our little frustrations. We’re just another piece of a mile-high wall of desire to live life again.

Optimism has been our companion, and I have dedicated much time to seeking the bright side of pretty much everything.

A couple days into the lockdown I had to get something out of the basement, as I was digging around, a precariously stacked moving box full of baby bottles fell on my head, followed by a dingy old breast pump, I stuffed it all back into the box and tossed it onto a less precarious stack. I won’t sugarcoat it, there was a bit of frustration and vulgar language added to that toss.

“Why do we even still have these things?” I asked myself. The girls have been off these bottles for years now. Then I remembered, the baby years were chaos. Simply raising them was a task unto itself. Now add the generous donations of friends and family. Donations of hand-me-down clothing, outgrown toys, new toys, tiny pieces of furniture. We’re grateful, but we were simply too busy to address the pile after it became outgrown and useful. Then there were hastily stuffed boxes that were thrown down the basement stairs because company was coming over! That’s how our basement got to the place that it was.

I began shuffling back up the stairs, muttering about someday having to deal with that mess. I froze on the first step and looked back over my shoulder. Hmm. I have the time. Why not…today? And every day of this lockdown?

So there! With all our free time, we have been working on the deepest spring cleaning in the storied history of our little family. Annie and I have been working on this project together, which leads me to the second silver lining. This project has brought us closer…together (if you know what I mean). We have embarked on a beautiful and liberating journey together, it has made us a stronger couple, possible a bit risqué.

I think something recyclable ended up in trash a couple times. How’s that for risqué?

There have been other incidences as well.

“Remember that step machine that’s been broken since 2012? I’m about to take it to the curb, and I will NOT be gentle.” Annie looked flushed. I leaned in close, “Are you okay? You look a little warm around the edges.”

“It’s that step machine…and it’s not due to use.”

When I returned from throwing out the step machine, I was greeted by Annie wearing a kitchen apron, “What do you think, Baby?” I stared at her, at a loss for words, “Would you rather I…took it off?”

“Yes! Please! Doesn’t that old tattered thing date back to when you were working as a chef? I don’t think that pea soup stain will ever come out.”

The kitchen apron landed in the trash bin; our giggles could be heard as the camera focus blurred and panned up.

 

Later that afternoon, I emerged from the basement, Annie noticed, “Ooh! What have you got a handful of?”

“It’s a bundle of mini-USB cords being kept together with a dried and cracked rubber band. You want to know what I’m gonna do with it?

“What?” She said

“I’m gonna throw it out. It will explode when it hits the bin. Because that brittle rubber band will probably break.”

“Just what I needed!” She screamed. I stared in bewilderment, “Sorry! Sorry for yelling like that.” As she pulled her earbuds out.

“The Cars?”

“Yep. Can’t help it, I have to sing along to the chorus.”

“I Love that song!”

 

That evening, I stepped into the bathroom, squeezing past Annie, “Hi,” I said, with a low voice.

“Why the voice?” She replied.

“The girls finally fell asleep. I don’t want to wake them. What might you be doing?” as I noted her hair up in a messy bun (except I don’t think it was deliberate).

“I’m just coming out of the closet. The…bathroom closet.  Would you like a peek?”

“Mmm I would.”

“Come a little closer,” she whispered. I smiled with anticipation; I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. “See this? It’s a box that only has sunscreen in it.”

“That’s nice. Real nice.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes.”

“Or here?”

“Better.”

“Or perhaps…. a little higher?”

“Oh my! That’s the spot! You know, with it being a seasonal thing and all.”

 

At the end of the day, we lay side by side, staring at the ceiling, spent and satisfied. I rolled over to my side and smiled as I tenderly draped my arm across her.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, smiling back.

“Netflix wants to know if we are still watching Stranger Things, the controller is on the other side of you.”

“Oh! I dozed off. Could we re-watch the last episode?”

“Great minds think alike.”

The next morning as I brought up a box of broken Leapfrog tablets, mellow saxophone music was playing. I gave Annie a look. “Sorry!” She said, “I hit the wrong button on the controller and it went to the smooth jazz channel.”

“No worries. I replied as I took in the scene. The bookshelves were organized, jackets were hung, I could now pull the coffee out of the freezer without a frozen chicken breast landing on my toe (always the toe! Why is that!). “So sexy.” I muttered.

“What’s that?”

I snapped out of it, “You! You too!”

“My eyes are up here, you know. You can stop looking at the bookshelf.” She smiled.