Every Friday, I treat my seven-year-old to a donut. It’s one of the small joys we cling to while navigating the chaos of the past year. She eagerly anticipates it—counting down the days, in fact—so I keep the tradition alive to lift her spirits. I see it as a reward for enduring five days of pandemic schooling where she can’t hug friends or chat during lunch.
Last Wednesday, even though she was on spring break, the countdown began: “Just two more days until my donut!” In the midst of our activities, she would wonder aloud about sprinkles.
So, on a chilly April Friday, we found ourselves waiting in a lengthy line at a donut shop. I opted for one a bit farther away because it had a drive-thru, and I needed something to occupy our time.
It had been a taxing week—a sentiment echoed by many over the last year. I was feeling the weight of exhaustion, monotony, and a persistent sense of dread. But this week brought forth a new emotion I hadn’t encountered yet.
My daughter returned from her last day of school before the break, gleefully sharing that her teacher was heading to California, while a classmate was going on a Disney cruise. Other families I know were jetting off as well—some visiting relatives, others just enjoying the sights. During her spring break, over a million travelers passed through TSA checkpoints daily. And we’ve all seen the crowded images from Florida.
But I’m not vaccinated, and the CDC advises against travel until that changes, so we spent our break in our driveway, living room, and kitchen.
Many local outdoor activities were fully booked due to COVID restrictions, and the unexpected cold snap made those options less enticing. Instead, I jammed my work into a few morning hours while my daughter entertained herself with YouTube. Then, I dedicated myself to teaching her to ride her bike, playing spies with walkie-talkies, learning choreography from a viral music video, and competing in our makeshift version of a Netflix baking show. Some of this might sound idyllic, but after 13 months of being my child’s primary playmate, the forced fun nearly broke me.
I tried to limit my social media scrolling, but occasionally, I’d see friends in new locations, hugging family, or crammed into group shots. When one post caught my attention, I took a deep breath, reminding myself that they might be vaccinated. I was happy for them, truly; they deserved a break.
But that feeling faded quickly.
For some inexplicable reason, the drive-thru line at the donut shop crawled along, and we waited for 25 minutes before it was our turn. As I approached the window, my daughter exclaimed from the backseat, “Mom, he’s not wearing a mask!” Surely she must be mistaken, I thought.
Nope.
As I pulled up to the drive-thru, the young employee handed over our donut, smiling broadly—mask completely absent. It wasn’t hanging under his chin or looped around his ear; he simply wasn’t wearing one at all. My heart sank. I hadn’t seen a stranger’s bare smile in months. Unsure how to respond, I grabbed the donut bag and sped off, tossing it onto the front seat and telling my daughter she couldn’t eat it.
I knew that surfaces aren’t a major transmission source; she’d probably be fine eating the donut. But I was furious—I felt violated by that unmasked grin, and I wanted her to understand that it wasn’t okay.
We drove another 15 minutes back to our local donut shop, which lacks a drive-thru, carefully avoiding indoor diners to get her donut (sans sprinkles).
There’s been a lot to be upset about recently. I’ve always been frustrated with those who disregard COVID protocols. However, at this stage of the pandemic, anyone’s nonchalant attitude sends me into a rage. I’ve been fuming about that drive-thru encounter for days.
I understand why people are weary of following the guidelines, but we are SO CLOSE to overcoming this. Every unvaccinated person who discards their mask, travels without quarantining, or invites friends over is making it harder for the rest of us. I yearn for those experiences too, but because of their actions, I have to wait even longer. It feels like I’m stuck in that drive-thru line, watching others cut ahead while I remain in the same spot.
According to the New York Times, people in my area face a “very high risk” of COVID exposure (hospitalizations are up 42%), urging us to avoid nonessential travel. During my child’s five days off school, over 4,000 Americans succumbed to COVID. And have you heard about Michigan?
I checked in with friends who are trying to maintain COVID precautions, and they share my intense frustration towards rule-breakers. One unvaccinated parent who also spent spring break at home revealed that some of her coworkers had recently flown to Jamaica and England. “Have you screamed lately?” she asked, suggesting I lock myself in the car to vent. “It might take a few tries to let it go,” she added.
I’ll give it a shot. In the meantime, I hope everyone had a great spring break. If you traveled somewhere exciting and aren’t vaccinated, please spare me the details.
For more on navigating these times, consider checking out this post, or for insights on home insemination, visit Make a Mom and Kindbody.
Summary
A mother shares her frustration over a drive-thru experience where an employee failed to wear a mask, leading to feelings of anger about the ongoing pandemic and the lack of adherence to safety protocols. She reflects on the challenges of staying home while others travel freely and the impact this has on her family.