It’s genuinely starting to feel like Boris Johnson is a prank being pulled by Armando Iannucci.
The man who wrote The Thick Of It secretly being behind everything this government has done is the only way any of it makes sense.
Take this surely scripted gem of dialogue from today’s press conference, “The problem is not the schools… the issue is the spread from the mixing of households that naturally takes place in schools.”
The Prime Minister is clearly saying there that the problem is not schools, but it is schools - and then he apparently decided which primaries to delay opening by drawing names randomly out of a hat.
Now finally I understand what people mean when they refer to this as an unprecedented period.
It’s the first time Armando Iannucci hasn’t been amusing in the slightest.
Because unfortunately lives depend on this maddening, contradictory nonsense.
And those of us trying to do the right thing aren’t really sure what that is.
I will do anything not to burden the battered NHS any more, or put extra pressure on the mentally and physically exhausted workers. So what now?
How can I be back here? And yet I am, as confused as I was in the summer. Do I send my kid to school next week or not?
My borough is one of those with many more Covid cases per 100,000 than others in which primary schools will remain closed. It is completely illogical, and baffling.
Of course I want my six year old to go back on Monday, not to miss any more of his education, or precious time with friends, but it feels counterintuitive to send him.
Like delaying, and prolonging, the inevitable, at any incredibly high price.
We’ve been here before, so many times, suffering the consequences of a government too slow to act, which never acknowledges let alone learns from their mistakes.
I’d prefer my son to be off for a few weeks now rather than for months, later, after many more people have died.
My household has been ultra-cautious over the festive break; my mum is in our support bubble but we still had Christmas dinner in the garden. (She had to bring her own bottle, and I’m talking of the hot water variety.)
Sending my son to mix with the 28 other children in his class – and by default, all their families, and all the people all their families may have come into contact with – is unarguably a risk. And you know what?
The numbers of fatalities and infections today don’t make me that inclined to take risks at the moment, funnily enough.
This year has taught us to take consolation where we can - and there is one way I could feel worse.
At least I didn't vote for this lead balloon of a joke.
