Very Persuasive Quarantine Reviews

This week began my six-year-old daughter’s first days of true distance learning. One of her favorite assignments was to write a persuasive piece in the form of a review of something—anything. Like an activity, a movie, or even a place. For instance, a restaurant, vacation or city? How fun! We gave it our best shot:

“The restaurant’s menu lists many delicious items, and the chicken fingers are not to be missed. Unfortunately, the ambiance leaves something to be desired as it is shuttered, dark, and haunted by the shadows of an all too recent past.” No, that’s not it. “Vacations are the best! One day, I hope to take one ever again.” Hm. Something’s not working. “New York is a great city which is currently the epicenter of the ever-heightening global pandemic. Hospitals are at capacity and they’ve run out of body bags. Don’t forget to visit the dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History!”

I never said I’d be a great first grade teacher. (Oh stop, she reviewed a board game you guys.)

But this did get me thinking. With the standard review fare now tragically irrelevant, perhaps it’s time to take a look at some of the hyper-local attractions which currently comprise the entirety of our once multi-faceted lives. Cute! So without further ado, I present to you a series of short Quarantine Reviews. I hope you find them to be persuasive. Ha ha!

Distance Learning: While an indisputable necessity in 2020, Distance Learning is a drag at best, and a daily Sisyphean, soul-crushing defeat at worst. I could gather an auditorium full of people from every stage of my life who would attest to the deep injustice of any child being made to learn math from me. Despite everyone on all sides doing their best, Distance Learning makes kids and their parents feel weary, frustrated, and openly hostile toward one another. The amount of time it takes has inspired a host of disturbing, attention-seeking behaviors from my three-year-old son, including a potty-training regression and a nearly complete loss of sophisticated language. Yesterday, I found myself teaching my daughter to “work smarter, not harder.” She is six, guys. I suppose in that way, it’s been an excellent way to instill some of the values and life lessons that would otherwise have taken her decades to comprehend. Lose-win.
Ultimately, I give Distance Learning a score of: 3 rolls of toilet paper, half a pack of Lysol wipes, and zero hand sanitizer.

Wine (incl. spirits): Very good! I simply can’t recommend this more highly. Wine is both delicious and mind-numbing. It pairs well with all kinds of meals, from beans to beans to beans in soup and beans with eggs and beans with pasta to dried beans or canned beans or even refried beans. Did anyone else buy too many beans? More on this later. Wine enhances the quarantine experience and makes everything feel just a little bit fancy. Tired of Bravo reruns? Add some Wine! Feeling awkward on a video chat? Go ahead and pour yourself some Wine. Overly demanding children? Wine again! Breakfast getting you down? You guessed it: Wine! It’s truly the one-size-fits all solution for the modern, utterly distraught family. I do feel it prudent to warn you that, should you choose to drink Wine and forgo dinner in lieu of half a bag of beef jerky and a bowl of olives, you may experience some unpleasant side effects the next day. But it’s a small price to pay for the mood-altering, brain-silencing benefits.
Score: 5 rolls of toilet paper, 2 packs of Lysol wipes, 3 hand sanitizers and a Fresh Direct time slot.

Children: Well, this was a tough one to score. On the one hand, Children are our future. We brought them into this world and we put all we’ve got into raising and caring for them. Big investment, big return. Plus we love them and they’re our everything and we’d die if anything ever happened to ‘em. On the other hand, they make a lot of very good quarantine activities difficult, like napping, working, working out, reading, going to the bathroom, reading in the bathroom, and staring blankly into the middle distance. To paraphrase a friend of mine: If the childless among us are passing the time doing intricate paint-by-numbers, the parents are all drinking from the paint can. While I would normally give Children two enthusiastic thumbs up, I cannot wholeheartedly and in good faith recommend them at this time. Disclaimer: I expect my opinion to change wildly every 15 minutes or so. See above two reviews.
Score: 20 Amazon boxes, 5 bottles of wine, 1 pack of Lysol wipes, a case of paper towels, and one heartfelt “for the love of Pete stop touching your flipping face.”

That Case of Bottled Water I Bought at Costco: Still in my basement. Still unsure why it exists. But ready. Always ready. Never look back. Never regret.
Score: One case of bottled water from Costco.

Video Chatting: Note: this review is for the social element of Video Chatting, not the professional. I can only review from my own experience, and my experience has been . . . surprisingly positive! While an unnatural and initially uncomfortable form of conducting human relationships, video chatting has enabled us to see and “hang” not only with the friends who are a regular part of our lives, but the ones with whom we’ve been meaning to catch up for the last few years. Why don’t we do this more often? I’ve spoken face-to-face with people who are normally relegated to text message conversations I sneak in while I’m hiding from my children in the bathroom. What’s more, Video Chatting presents plentiful opportunities beyond this time of social distancing. It’s the perfect outlet for those who live far from loved ones, those whose lives are too busy for dinners out or group vacations, or just for those who want to ensure a good turnout at their birthday party/baby shower/funeral without all the muss and fuss of putting on pants all the time. Plus: funny filters!
Score: 8 rolls of toilet paper, 5 hand sanitizers, and 2 bottles of wine.

The Internet: Still mostly bad.
Score: 500 memes.

Food: On the whole, Food is still a thing we need I guess. Unfortunately, due to difficulties in procurement and inventory management, it has become a great source of stress not only in the purchasing and maintaining of it, but also in the preparation. It’s like the members of my family need to eat Food all the time. And I’m not just talking every day. It’s every morning, every afternoon, every night. Sometimes in between, even. Do they not understand that Food doesn’t grow on trees? Do they not understand that I didn’t know what I was thinking when I bought all those MOTHERLOVING beans? Since when is everyone too stinking good for a good old-fashioned stinking bowl of cold cereal with a very restrained quantity of non-shelf-stable milk? Why did I commit to all these fresh mangoes I now need to cut up? I would sooner eat a jar of tiny pickles and a handful of gummy watermelon slices than face the veritable ocean of salmon I’ve got socked away in my freezer (and I did). Last night, my son ate a box of macaroni and cheese and half a rotisserie chicken and a cookie and a plain tortilla and then adamantly demanded to eat a lime. A LIME! WHY? WHAT IS HAPPENING? HAS HE EVER EVEN HAD A LIME BEFORE? WHAT DOES ANYTHING MEAN?! EVERYONE NEEDS TO LEARN HOW TO OPERATE A MICROWAVE INDEPENDENTLY AND IF YOU GUYS DON’T EAT THESE MANGOES I CUT UP HONEST TO GOD I SWEAR I WILL FILL YOUR PILLOWCASES WITH THEM.
Score: Wine.

I hope to make this a regular series. Tune in next time for Very Persuasive Quarantine Reviews of House, Family, Weather, and Bras.