I have a love hate relationship with my mask. I think we probably all do. Even after a year of wearing one when I go out, I still often forget it when I get out of the car and have to run back to the parking lot to get it. Once I walked right into Starbucks with out thinking and the kind barista behind the counter gave me a new one to put on. I was so embarrassed and I apologized to her profusely. And then I went outside to enjoy my veinte peppermint mocha frappe, maskless.
Since this is an ode, I thought about making it rhyme but then gave up.
I love my mask.
It’s hard to breathe through it’s many protective layers.
But it protects me from the dreaded Covid,
Along with many other things.
I enjoyed garlic for lunch, no one can smell my bad breath,
I ate a spinach salad, no one can see if some is still stuck in my teeth.
I have a boogar in my nose, no one can offer me a tissue.
The list of wonderful things a mask can do for us can go on for miles.
I love my mask, sometimes.
I’ve worn it for so long, I think I may miss it when it’s gone.
Why do you love yours?