10 August. Lockdown day 137

It's been another night of disrupted sleep. I'm really looking forward to the day I climb into my teenager's bed, hog the duvet, force them to sleep in positions not intended for anyone who isn't at least double jointed or a contortionist, then demand they pry their eyelids open because "it's morning!"

We're a whole five million and ninety nine days past the 21 days we thought we'd be doing all of this. I've seriously thought of changing the whole angle of this blog because, to be honest, most of the craziness doesn't have anything to do with the fact that we have no escape from one another. This was kind of life before Covid, it's just now we have to wear masks and I chuck a 70% alcohol solution over my kids hands every so often.