It's happened. 

The first Fresser family member to be sent home to isolate is my daughter. I was surprised. I'm not sure why, as it was only a matter of time, but I expected her brother - a new Year 7 in a bubble of a 330 pupils - to be the first back at my kitchen table. 

But his sister beat him to it. Her class, was one of two sent home to sit out a 14 day cooling off period, and we're waiting to see if she or her mates develop symptoms of the dreaded Covid-19 after someone at school tested positive. (I hope the poorly patient only has it mildly.) 

She was so excited to be back at school - skipping in every day - she sobbed yesterday when she told she was benched (and not benching) until 9th October. My heart is so heavy I could cry with her.

It wasn't unexpected, but I'm really not ready to become teacher again. 'School' is now a series of tasks - all of which need handing in via Google Classrooms. None of which, I imagine - she will be able to do unaided. 

But there's a silver lining. We get to eat lunch together every day again. When lockdown ended so did our family shared meal. It had been a highlight for all of us. With the children gone, Mr P and I got lazy, reverting to solo meals - mine grabbed at my desk; his - alone at the kitchen table.

And today, my littlest Fresser baked us some cheese, pea and corn, spelt muffins, which we ate with bowls of warming soup. A culinary hug, if you like. 

We all needed it. I'm done with this awful plague.