Supermarket Sweep

I couldn’t stop myself. It was pure animal instinct, undeniable, profound. I knew I shouldn’t, I knew people would be looking, judging, but my basic human needs took over me and I couldn’t fight it; I went over, slowly, trying not to look too desperate but, then, in an instant, I understood. My pace quickened, I kept walking, not stopping as I knew it was futile.

The rumours were true.

There really was no toilet roll…

…or hand wash or pasta or bleach or disinfectant or anything in a tin. If you are reading this in 10 years time, then, if it’s not already in the history books (not sure when something officially becomes of historical record) a little back story: Covid 19. What began as a tickly cough in China (started, allegedly, by some hungry little chap chowing down on bats waaaaay past their sell by date) has now forced the world to hang up a “closed” sign. To date 8800 have died.

In an effort to slow down the rampage, everything has closed down: workplaces, pubs, clubs, concerts, theatreland and then came the final knockout punch, the Haymaker; they closed the doors to all the schools and sent the children packing on March 20th …and despite being told it’s for 12 weeks, if they get back to school before September I will do naked cartwheels down the high street (least my breasts wil be back in the right place for a second). We have all been advised to stay inside as much as possible and, if you do choose to go out, to keep to a “social distancing” policy of 2m between you and the next human being. Rock has to go out hunting and gathering (I have drawn the line at pillaging despite his genial request) so, it’s me and the youngling – my 9 year old… I’m not sure who will fare worse: me, being inside with my daughter for 5 months or my daughter being inside with me, being inside with her, for 5 months. It’s like a weird experiment in natural selection. It is all rather grim.

Here in the uk, people have reacted in 1 of 2 ways. Head scratching bewilderment or sheer, unadulterated knuckle dragging cretinism. The later group should, to be totally honest, be shot. Like a hoard of locusts they have descended on the supermarkets and bought…. everything. Literally everything. It started last week week with a barren wasteland in the loo roll aisle, now though, almost nothing has been left. I came home the other day with an aubergine, 6 Polish sausages and 8 pots of Instant Chinese noodles (there were a lot of those… I think the world is disappointed with the results of the bat eating fiasco and now looking upon said foodstuffs with an element of, not undeserved, wariness.

You will be delighted, no doubt, to learn that I stumbled upon some loo roll whilst paying for petrol. Aghast at the over inflated cost, I almost left them, thinking I could make it through with the 2 rolls I had but, with my Manchild’s imminent return from uni, thought it prudent to get some while I could. He goes through a uniquely large amount of toilet paper which I try not to give too much thought to. I have never seen the sense in paying for high end botty wipes considering it’s purpose and indeed eventual destination. Don’t get me wrong, I agree that purchasing the economy bog roll is a false and somewhat dangerous economy so always plump for the rolls on the middle shelf. Today though I had to pay a premium for a picture of a puppy and a promise of a “super soft wipe”, which is not a phrase I ever thought would appeal to me.

I sense historically weird times ahead so will endevour, for as long as possible, to keep a diary… of sorts…and now I shall go and watch the news…again.

By Kim Hawley

I’m a mum ... 48 years on our glorious planet and I have got some stuff to get of my chest!

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