We spend the morning in our pajamas coloring a box fort with markers, playing hotel upstairs, but not in the toy room because it is closed for cleaning, and eating snacks and doing paper crafts while episodes of Bluey stream endlessly on the wall altar. A brief trip to Grandma’s turns into an extended break for me, where I wander around Guitar Center and then make my monthly visit to the pawnshop by the office. This time, I find a Remarkable2 e-ink tablet on which I write this piece. We round off the evening at the county pool, doing underwater somersaults and discovering the joys of learning to swim. In the eyes of a six-year-old girl, it is “the best day ever.” In the car, she can’t wait to call Grandma to tell her she can now swim. We arrive home to her aunt visiting, delivering donuts, and discussing the ups and downs of family life in an era of surprise visits from Lady Death. Now the blanket fort that has covered the living room for two days has been dismantled, and the weekend wind-down routine is in progress, later than usual, but comforting in the security of a fortunate suburban life.
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