I'm an older lady, a formerly retired grandmother but now enlisted as a "homeschooling" grandmother by more recent demand. I am forced to go out for necessities for my husband, grandchildren and wheelchair bound adult child living at home. Therefore, it would be most appreciated if you're standing in line, particularly at a local Dollar General store where said line always wraps around the most errantly positioned "Enter line" here sign that most ignore in the first place, that you attempt to not slam your product next to me on the counter, huff and puff over my shoulder into my breathing zone, while I'm hurriedly swiping my card into the kiosk that you've crowded me from. All this so that I can carry home bags that have been touched by an unthinking clerk not wearing gloves. Bless his heart. (Skip to last paragraph if you don't want to read the personal rant).
You see, I do care about those who depend upon me, because although I'm not in the best of shape, I'm still a bit wiry. I can't leave planting a garden to my husband. In addition, would not know how to use the microwave nor stove without setting the house ablaze, not to mention EMS, Fire/Bomb Squad and Hazmat being on standby. (I'm serious about that.) We won't mention nearly cutting his hand off on more than one occasion, falling off roof, mixing chemicals that do not go together, or melting handle off a RevereWare pot and setting both the curtains and dish towel on fire. To boot, he would not know where to begin to manage paying our bills online in a timely manner.
Our wheelchair bound adult child cannot reach anything, because her father continually pushes everything to the back of the fridge upon impulse. And neither could wash a dish, sweep or properly mop to save them out of Hades. We allow him to do the laundry, because it keeps him out of most trouble, except for the basement flooding. We ignore the burnt holes in our clothes, because I'll buy more at America's Thrift.
That's just the way it is. But I still love him and he's good for some things like... comic relief. Our middle child has a degree in psychology, which she uses daily in homeschooling the more difficult of her sibling's children in loving fashion. Our eldest has three beautiful boys who will grow up over six feet tall and strong if allowed, (and if ramen noodles were removed from their menu). Our youngest son has two beautiful daughters who are insanely talented and intelligent. It would be a shame for me to infect any of my brood. They're loving and they deserve a chance to live a lot longer than me.
So whilst you may not be taking this crisis as seriously as our governor and the various city managers, the number of cases and deaths is rising. And we don't know where those cases and deaths originate, do we? Hence, we can only manage our danger as best we can. I don't want to be one of those who leaves my family behind nor infect other precious ones in my family only to greet them later in heaven, because of your calloused indifference. So, kindly please stay outta my kool-aid! (Idiom graciously pilfered from eldest daughter's millennial vernacular.)