Day Ninety-Five in Lockdown #3.0

02:12 The perfect storm has landed. Ian is sniffing, Joel is snorting and Frankie is sneezing. How Lindsay isn’t spending tonight in a police cell is a miracle.

09:23 Ian fancies a kettle which whistles.

“They’re a bit noisy though Ian. It would probably annoy the kids…I’ll go and get one today.”

10:01 Ian’s about to take Frankie out for a walk but can’t find his AirPods.

“Have you seen them Linz?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure? They were in the kitchen yesterday.”

“Absolutely. 100%. Haven’t seen them for days.”

“Where could they be?”

“You can borrow my headphones if you like. They’re in my drawer.”

“There’s my AirPods Linz. In your drawer.”

“Yes. That’s where they are. I now absolutely remember tidying them away.”

12:12 Lindsay’s watching more news on Prince Philip.

“See that reporter Ian? I sat next to her in French tutorials at uni.”

“So you were in the same class and she works for ITV. What went wrong?”

“I met you.”

12:56 It’s Lindsay’s turn to lose something.

“Ian. Have you see my uni hoodie?”

“Yeah. It’s back in the nineties when you were meant to wear it.”

13:17 Lindsay’s trying out her new, stronger prescription contact lenses.

“Hang on. These are rubbish. I can barely see a thing. I mean, I’m struggling to make you out Ian..actually, they’ll do just fine.”

13:23 Lindsay’s already fed up and practically blinds herself trying to take out her lenses.

“Linz. I’m popping out. The garage is open. Can you keep an eye on it?”

“Yeah, I can keep an eye on it but just the one because my right one has stopped working.”

14:09 Lindsay spots a robin outside. Clearly birds also still think that it’s winter in West Cumbria.

15:19 Ian’s still tidying the garage.

“Linz. Shall we sell the tent?”

“Don’t mind.”

“Well, it just means we won’t be able to go camping again.”

“Sell, sell, sell!!!”

16:23 Ian spies the new kettle.

“Oh, so you got one then?”

“No. I just thought about it. It’s actually a figment of your imagination. Would you like a pretend cup of tea?”

18:21 Abigail’s feeling pleased with herself. She’s just watched a video in French and understood it all, but she has issues with the curriculum.

“Mam. If I ever got lost in France or ran out of money, I’d be doomed. I can tell people that I live in a detached house which is fairly modern or I have two brothers and one really annoys me. I can say I don’t like history because the teacher is boring or I could tell a French policeman the contents of my pencil case. But I couldn’t get any actual help!”

“Ooh, should I write to Boris? I like writing to Boris.