Hey lovely people.
So this March, I was writing the Bad Mother’s Wedding, when the coronavirus hit and the world turned upside-down. Like all of you, I wanted to do my bit to help so I decided to change the Bad Mother’s Wedding to the Bad Mother’s Virus and give book sales profits to help fund the coronavirus vaccine and other healthcare programmes.
The Bad Mother’s Wedding will still be coming out – just a bit later in the year, probably August time.
Here is a sample of the Bad Mother’s Virus. It won’t appear in the real book, it’s just a short story to show you how Juliette and her family are coping with the virus outbreak. The full book will be available in May and ALL sales profits will be donated to good healthcare causes.
So spread the word, spread the love – when this book is released, let’s make it go mega epic and raise sh*t loads of money. But don’t forget to laugh – it’s good for the immune system 🙂
The Bad Mother’s Virus is on sale / pre-order here …
The Bad Mother’s Virus – short story sample
Monday 23rd March
Home Schooling Begins
Today I have a new job – untrained primary school teacher.
I hoped to have toilet roll for Daisy’s first home-school day, but we’ll have to keep using kitchen roll and parcel packing paper for now.
Daisy wants to call our home school, ‘The School of Friendship’. This is nice, but meaningless since there are no children here to be friends with.
She’s written the following school rules:
No strangling people
No social bullying
There has been no strangling so far, which is good.
Daisy is currently on a learning app while I drink tea, attempt to do a work spreadsheet and worry about the future.
Daisy just narrowly escaped expulsion for assaulting a teacher, i.e. me. She kicked me REALLY HARD when I wouldn’t let her photograph my nostrils and double chin on the iPad.
Lucky for Daisy she got off with a suspension. I sent her to ‘GIVE ME SOME SPACE!’ in the garden, while I sneakily ate the Kit Kat I said she couldn’t have.
Feel Daisy may have already seen through my ruse – i.e. I am not a trained primary school teacher, but a stressed parent attempting to do my own work while distracting her with learning apps.
Email from Daisy’s school saying they’re missing the children. I get the impression they’ve cracked open the champagne and are dancing around the empty stickle brick and Lego tubs. But maybe that’s unkind.
Mum just rang. She keeps Googling ‘Coronavirus death’ and now won’t leave the house at all, even for essential daily exercise.
‘It’s the safest thing,’ she said. ‘I can’t get ill. It’ll finish me off.’
I do understand why she’s worried, being a sixty-something diabetic. However, daily exercise will do Mum the world of good, provided she follows all the handwashing, safe distance precautions.
‘The government said only leave the house for essentials,’ said Mum. ‘Exercise isn’t essential.’
It’s really no wonder she’s overweight.
Nana Joan just phoned in a panic about the lockdown. She’s already stockpiled three weeks’ worth of things she never eats, like rice, pasta and pilchards. But now she’s realised that if she gets ill, she’ll want comfort food, like biscuits and cake.
‘I’ll never get over the flu without a packet of chocolate digestives and a big bag of Murray mints,’ she fretted.
Told Nana that there is no food shortage and she’s worrying about nothing.
‘You need to stop stockpiling,’ I added. ‘It’s inducing national panic. I’m buying no more than my standard shop. You should do the same.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Nana. ‘How many bottles of Calpol have you got now?’
Admitted that I had four bottles. Maybe five.
‘Since when does a child need five bottles of Calpol?’ Nana demanded. ‘You’re stockpiling, just like the rest of us. You can’t help panicking when the shelves are bare.’
In the end, I offered to use my supermarket account to get Nana a home shopping delivery. Nana refuses to do internet shopping for ‘ethical’ reasons, which I can never quite understand. Probably, the ethics just amount to fear and old age.
Cautioned Nana that the deliver slots might be booked up, but will do my best.
YES! Managed to get one of the last supermarket delivery slots.
The website requested a minimum order of £20 to reserve the slot, so I stuck in a bottle of Dom Perignon in the basket while I wait for Nana’s order. Hope the supermarket algo-rhythm doesn’t work out that I have never in my life ordered Dom Perignon.
Will phone Nana now.
Nooo! The supermarket website is overwhelmed and has locked me out, so I can’t add alter the basket.
This means a single bottle of Dom Perignon is now being packed for delivery during a national food crisis.
I have visions of the delivery driver, shaking his head and muttering to about wasteful attitudes and ‘precious few delivery slots’, as the Dom Perignon bottle rolls around an empty crate.
They’re going to think Nana is the most selfish OAP going.
Haven’t told Nana Joan yet about the impending delivery.
Will keep trying to log onto the website.
Have just heard all the churches have been closed. So now there’s nowhere even to pray. Even for little things, like being able to alter an online shopping basket.
Suzy K Quinn is the author of coronavirus funny fiction, the Bad Mother’s Virus.