Following a photographer around with a can of Lysol and other notes from the Great Quarantine.

A very nice man came to our house to take pictures of us. He wore a mask and gloves and kept a distance, for those if you who have already asked. For good measure, I followed him around with a can of Lysol which was all good and well until he turned around mid-stream and I almost blinded the poor guy. (It’s not like he needs his eyes, right?)

He did get to see me do several rounds of dishes, unload and reload the dishwasher, fold a load of towels, feed some people, clean up, then feed them again. I don’t want to talk about my outfit SNAFU. Let’s just say it’s good his lens didn’t get me or the pasta stuck to my fancy, shiny, special occasion leggings. (His arrival did force me to wash the other pair I may or may not have been wearing for a week straight.)

I was worried I would look like a an asshole in the article, which is often the case when you pretend to be functioning family for a stranger and even more-so, when this stranger is your first outside contact in a while.

I’ll let you all be the judge of that.

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