And somebody actually has it.

Yes, Corona has entered the building. After months of avoiding the bugger, middle child has kindly fetched it home from prom. Most teenagers would have fetched a stolen pint glass or a traffic cone. But then, when did middle child ever conform? So, when I thought he was possibly suffering from the longest hangover ever (record currently held by me), it turns out that he’s joined the ranks of the infested.

And in typical awkward middle child fashion, he’s acquired it at the completely wrong time.

First, number one child (in birth order, not in preference. My favourite changes on a daily basis) starts his apprenticeship in a week. I’m doubtful he’ll get infected as he has refused to be in close proximity of his brother since the day he was born, but there’s always a chance and if he has to delay starting his training, he’ll have yet another reason to loathe his younger and oh so different brother.

Secondly, number three child is at dance summer school. Legally she doesn’t have to isolate, but has spent the last 24 hours wearing a mask and disinfecting every visible surface in the house to be on the safe side. I kind of wish I’d threatened her with infectious diseases upsetting her dance lessons years ago! Every cloud. Nice clean house.

And, more upsettingly, husband has booked his two weeks’ summer leave. Why he couldn’t wait until we’d all gone back to school/work, I don’t know. Like I said we don’t have to isolate, but we’ll be careful. We’ll stay home as much as possible. So that’s 13 days. 312 hours. 18,720 minutes. 1,123,200 seconds. In the same house. Together. In the same house. Together.

Middle child is not the best patient. Initially, the thought of him being confined to his barracks for ten days cheered me right up. But he can FaceTime. He can make demands. We may need to suddenly have WiFi issues. Old Jean-Paul Sartre used to say that ‘l’enfer, c’est les autres’ or ‘Hell is other people.’ Well, I now disagree. Hell is fruit loop middle child isolating in his bedroom. And we’ve only just begun. As the Carpenters used to say.