The time my mother-in-law's care package during my COVID home recovery was a bit questionable

I tested positive for COVID for the first time.

And I have just witnessed the living hell
of the infection spreading rapidly throughout my household.

I was the first to catch it.

A few days later, my elementary school son caught it.
A few days after that, my husband caught it.

And as for my daughter, who was the only one still healthy,

her class was unexpectedly closed,
so she is now forcibly confined
to our 'COVID house'.

As a mother recovering from illness, I am exhausted
by the 'play with me' attacks from an elementary school girl with too much energy.

How many times do I have to play restaurant
before she's satisfied?

We actually did take measures to prevent household transmission.

I was isolated in an unused room on the second floor,
and we decided that only my husband would interact with me.

But my son, who would quietly open the door in the morning and evening
to peek through the gap and say, 'Mom, hang in there,'
ended up becoming the next victim of COVID.

His kindness ended up being his undoing.

And then my husband, who had been desperately holding down the fort without a wife,
finally went down too.

During that time,
the one supporting our household was
my mother-in-law who lives next door.

Instead of my husband, who can only cook rice,
she made a huge amount of side dishes and brought them over.

Thanks to her, the four of us somehow
managed to survive.

However, when my stomach was wrecked and my appetite was gone,
the side dish that arrived was...

Pork cutlet simmered in egg.

Maybe she just shared what she had made for the healthy members of the family,
but this was quite something.
'Heavy meat when my stomach is upset? And it's fried food, too?'

Just looking at it made me feel full...

I mean, I'm grateful enough that she made anything at all.

I am grateful. Very much so.

It's just that the pork cutlet at a time when my appetite was dead
was pretty funky.

But I can't complain.

And a few days later.

Having heard that our house had become a COVID party,
my mother back home.

I suppose she was worried about us.

She said, "There's something I want to drop off for you," and
what she left at our front door was...

A massive amount of heavy fried chicken.

But fried chicken while all three of us in the family are sick...?

(My mom is pretty funky, too!)

To defend my mother's honor,
she did bring fruit along with it,
and that was incredibly helpful.

Fruit is easy to eat even when you have no appetite,
so it was a godsend for me.

But still,
fried chicken is a bit much, Mom.
(Though I did my best to eat it.)

I understand that sentiment.

It was just a harsh baptism
for a stomach that was currently recovering.

Grateful, but not really grateful.

Being able to turn such a gift into a story
is only possible because I have my health.

It feels like infections are exploding again right now,
so please take care of yourself as well.

Updating on Tuesdays and Fridays,
this was Kireido!

Your 'likes' are my motivation~💖

My tell-all confession series is apparently somewhat popular or something ↓

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