The boy is at school (I guess)

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So, a little to start

, I will say that

, a shameful nonsense that has led us parents to live like acrobats since that fateful March.

We are already walking on the wire with the ease of a senior

,

during these crazy months.

Now, it seems, the course starts, praise Zeus, but servant did not know on Friday morning (eye to the data, that Garcia said) at what time the children entered.

Servant did not know if there was a dining room.

And an

like a heart transplant: the servant didn't know what time they were leaving.

Of fireworks, gentlemen.

.

On Friday afternoon, I finally knew, and things got substantially worse.

Covid-19 has brought many changes, but I only care about one:

I did not know anything about the butterfly effect, but now I have verified that half an hour is like the flapping of a bug, capable with its 30 minutes of generating the most dire chaos.

This weekend in my house everything has been cabal, assumptions, plans A and plans B. Among the string of nonsense that we have pondered as

, there were these: that the child take the child to school that so nice plumber who fixed the tap in summer;

or the brunette cashier at Mercadona, who is almost a family;

or the neighbor downstairs, whatever his name is, since he knows us perfectly, much to his regret.

We

also

, and that he gets home by subway, ignoring all the bogeymen who are on the way;

or that he stays at the door of the school, without more, in a technical state of abandonment, ignoring all the bogeymen who interleave him;

or spend time in the adjacent park, without falling off the swing and ignoring all the bogeymen who offer you the famous candy.

With so many alternatives, what can go wrong?

Today, finally, I have taken my child from the third year of Primary to study photosynthesis, equations or whatever the hell is done in second cycle.

And I have done it

;

nor what is your bubble group;

nor if your teacher is a well-known teacher or a former Bosnian War fighter.

This is like when I had Philo's exam on Thursday and on Wednesday I didn't know who Parmenides was.

Well the same.

The teacher reinforcements may have arrived on time or not, and so richly.

And the same goes for the school nurse and cleaning aids.

.

Here some have been given time and in the end, suspense the song, as happened to me with the Presocratics.

really

like in that Barcelona of the bonfires where San Juan was every night.

I imagine that we have saved ourselves the pyrotechnics because we don't even have time for vandalism, damn my stamp.

How angry that stress prevents revolution.

My only certainty at this point is that, after depositing my heir at school, I went out making wheels on my way to work with my precarious engine minivan.

And I have done it without looking back,

, and they put the child back.

And that if not.

Ministers and counselors can now be appointed as they wish, but the child stays.

Boy does he stay.

Because if the politicians have not done their homework, neither have the children, and they are lost undocumented, with many hiatuses, many affluents and many Visigoths to learn.

I've jumped to the traffic lights, just in case.

According to the criteria of The Trust Project

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