It’s hard to go outside with a crying child with anxiety towards the invisible virus. We don’t go outside for days and stay inside the box. My son and I are sharing a room while my frontliner husband is quarantined in the other room.
I persuade my son to take a walk to the park. The park is usually crowded with joggers, strollers, and dogs. But not today. I ask my son to stand in the middle of the field for a picture. My seven-year-old looks smaller in the empty field.