Visiting the grandkids proves to be quite the trip

Like many people of my generation, it’s been nearly a year since I’ve seen any of my grandchildren. So I decide to roll the dice and visit my grandtwins in Virginia last weekend, which is when my grandson would be playing his first game of high school-level football.

To get there I have to decide between driving and flying. I pick flying, because fares are low and virtually every day I get messages from airlines describing the many steps they have taken to make flying safe. If one of their planes did happen to get infected, presumably they would throw it away and buy a new one.

To be as far as possible on the safe side, four days before my trip I take a COVID-19 test, which entails sitting in your car and shoving a swab stick up your nose as far as you can. Although if you reach the temporal lobe you’ve gone a bit too far. The results, which I was supposed to receive in two or three days, still haven’t arrived by Friday, but it’s too late to change my plans.

So that morning I board a 48-seat plane where a masked flight attendant hands me a wipe and welcomes me and 46 other passengers to the friendly skies. Being on a plane in which all but one seat is occupied isn’t the kind of social distancing I’d envisioned, but maybe airlines figure that observing the six-inch rule is safety enough.

When I arrive at the airport my son picks me up and informs me that my grandson’s football game has been canceled because of equipment problems.

“At least you’ll get to spend time with the kids on Saturday,” he points out. “And your granddaughter has two lacrosse games on Sunday.”

On Saturday I spend approximately 15 minutes with the kids before they go off to an all-day birthday party.

On Sunday we drive to my granddaughter’s lacrosse games. To assure social distancing, spectators are restricted to an area 100 yards away from midfield.

“You’ll still be able to see her,” my son says. “Just look for the girl with the blonde ponytail.”

The game begins and my grandaughter takes the field with her 10 teammates. Eight of whom have blonde ponytails.

“Maybe we should have brought binoculars,” my son concedes.

“Maybe we should have brought a telescope,” I reply.

Later that afternoon, I head for home after a trip in which I didn’t get to see my grandson play football because there was no game and two lacrosse games my granddaugher did play but were too far away to see.

This time the plane has 48 passengers.