Touch.

So, a couple of weeks ago, Susie and I took a week’s ‘holiday’ to spend some time with the boys.

One morning, at breakfast, Barnaby had a lot of questions about the lockdown, and specifically, when the lockdown might end. I started waffling on about schools, smaller classes, shops, driving to Epping Forest, keeping a safe distance, exercising outdoors, and all sorts of other stuff I’d read about. Barnaby listened patiently for a while, and then re-phrased his question: “What I mean is, when will we be able to hug people again?”

During our holiday week, Susie had some kind of twenty-four hour bug which laid her low. In our new super-cautious climate, the boys were told to stay away from Mummy’s bedroom, and that they weren’t to go and touch her until she was feeling better – and wash your hands! It just so happened that I’d hurt my shoulder that day too. At one point, James launched himself from the stairs as I walked past, to give me a ‘flying hug’. The pain shot through my back, and I put him down quickly and stepped away from him suddenly. A look of hurt filled his eyes, and I understood at once – did this mean that there were no adults he could hug? I bent down and hugged him close, “It’s okay, it’s just my back is hurt – it’s okay to hug me.”