The kid remembers a time she used to go to school. She doesn’t really remember the ancient concept of school, but more of a vague idea of what school was like.
But I remember. I remember what school was like. “freedom 5” I’d said, as I gleefully bought her supplies. Such a clever dude I was, making clever jokes. In the before times.

Do you remember what paying $8 for a beer looks like? I do. God I miss it.

I remember a time when 6 feet was how tall people were, not how far we were from them.

When stores didn’t have dirty taped arrows all over the floor, and I didn’t have to make 3 trips down the world food aisle because I forgot something and couldn’t move backwards.

I remember when game nights were on a table not a computer.

I remember when people wore masks on Halloween not on grocery day.

I remember counting the days until vacation, not until salvation. Checking my phone to read news about a stupid orange president, not a stupid orange safety phase.

I remember gleefully not knowing who the health minister of New brunswick was.

“Don’t worry,” I say to the kid. “You’ll remember what school is soon enough.” And I have that dumb dad smarmyness, but inside I’m worried that she’s going into grade two, and what the hell? Is she like 18 right now? God.

Self-Isolation – Day 62: Cruising Facebook for the angry people cawing ‘too soon’ is my latest isolation hobby.

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