Empty nest syndrome
What can take my mind off our changed routine? Building a Duplo treehouse…
The boy strutted around in his pyjamas in the afternoon, like a six-year-old Hugh Hefner
One thing I’ve learnt from lockdown: children are much better than grownups at handling sudden change. Got to stop going to school because a deadly pandemic is raging? Sure, fine, whatever. Got to go back to school even though the deadly pandemic is still raging? Sure, fine, whatever. Can I have another custard cream?
We parents, however, are finding it harder to adapt. First we grumbled about the timeconsuming bother of home teaching. Yet now that it’s over, and our son is back at school, we feel oddly bereft. We’ve got empty nest syndrome, at least 12 years too early. We even miss the terrible Youtube videos about computer games he loves watching. I’m half tempted to put one on in the background, just to fill this strange, boy-less silence. I seem to remember my parents finding something similar about 20 years ago. They used to roll their eyes at my younger sister for watching Neighbours every day. Yet the moment she left home, they started watching it every day themselves. Before I get written out of the will I should probably add that they soon grew out of it. Still, a cautionary tale.
If I find myself building a Duplo treehouse while I’m meant to be concentrating on a televised Commons debate, I’ll know I’m in trouble.
At least there’s the weekend to look forward to. I’m planning a family barbecue. We had one on Sunday, just the three of us, with the boy strutting around the patio in his pyjamas, midafternoon, like a six-year-old Hugh Hefner.
After we’d eaten we spent the afternoon blowing bubbles. Possibly not the sort of pastime Chris Whitty would approve of, given that a bubble is essentially a floating cluster-bomb of human germs. Luckily, though, none of them made it into the neighbours’ garden, because the boy burst them all. He was trying to catch and keep them, but didn’t quite manage it.
According to the Health Secretary, observing the rules of lockdown is no less than our “civic duty”. Eventually, though, lockdown will end, and the Government’s priority will be to save the economy. At which point, I suspect, ministers will decide that our “civic duty” is to spend money. As much as possible, and at every opportunity.
Browsing in shops will be banned. Forget signs saying “You Break It, You Pay For It” – now they’ll read, “You Glance at It, You Pay For It”. Security guards will man the exits, checking you’ve spent at least £50 before they’ll let you leave.
Then for an entire week the newspapers will be dominated by scandal, after Dominic Cummings is found to have left the Barnard Castle gift shop with only a souvenir thimble and a snow globe worth £3.99.