This lockdown is storting to seriously affect me. What has happened to the world?

Were one of those families. You might be one of those families yourselves. When were filling the supermorket trolley every week, were not shopping for us were shopping for the family wed like to be. Which usually means buying 30 or 40 kilos of fruit and vegetables that we know well never eat.
Yes, I think, dropping a watermelon into the trolley every Thursday night, I am the kind of man wholl chop and eat this at some point over the next seven days.
Then, before the week is over, Im putting it in the bin, having decided the whole thing was too much trouble.
The need to pretend youre a healthy family is even greater when you shop online. As Sorcha says, the last thing you want is some randomer filling your trolley and thinking ill of your choices.
Which is how we reached a point this week where we found ourselves with 77 bananas that no one showed the slightest interest in eating, especially since most of them were turning black. And thats when Sorcha announced with the serious tone of, I dont know, a prime minister declaring war that she was going to make banana bread.
Sixty seconds later, Im back on the
Vico Road and probably like you Im thinking, What has happened to the world we once knew?
Oh my God, she went, everyone on Instagram is doing it! which in my wifes world means we have no choice but to comply too. Im going to do Donal Skehans one!
So she got to work. And within an hour, she had made 14 freshly baked loaves of banana bread. And that was when I reminded her that no one in this house even likes the stuff.
Were not going to eat it, she went. Were going to give it to the neighbours. Put your mask and gloves on, Ross drop one in to Gwen and one in to Joy.
So I get suited and booted, grab the two banana breads still warm and set off. A few minutes later, Im ringing the Loschers bell.
Through the door, Gwen goes, Who is it?
Im there, Its Ross OCarroll-Kelly.
Shes like, Who?
Theyre not rugby people.
Im like, Er, Ross from next door ?
Oh, she goes, Sorcha Lalors husband?
And Im there, Yeah, no, thats one way of looking at it. Sorchas made you some banana bread.
Shes like, Oh, dear.
Im there, What?
Ive made her some banana bread as well. Its Nigella Lawsons.
Ours is Donal Skehans.
Are you wearing gloves?
Yes, Im wearing gloves.
Well, leave it on the doorstep, she goes, then take 10 steps backwards. Ill open the door and take yours in, then Ill leave mine on the doorstep and you can take it once Im safely back inside.
So thats what we do. Its like a hostage exchange. For focking banana bread.
Sixty seconds later, Im back on the Vico Road and probably like you Im thinking, What has happened to the world we once knew? I think this lockdown is storting to seriously affect me. I got a pop-up on my laptop yesterday that said, There are hot women in your area who want to meet you! and my first thought was that a high temperature is a sign of this thing and that women in their condition shouldnt be meeting anyone.
Thats when I spot a woman, wearing gordening gloves and a Hermes scorf covering the lower half of her face, putting something in our post box at the gate.
Im like, Halt! Who goes there? because I can be very funny.
It turns out its Joy Felton, the neighbour from the other side.
She goes, I made you some banana bread. Its the Happy Pear one.
Im there, I was just coming to see you. Weve got Donal Skehans.
Oh, she goes, sounding disappointed by this turn of events. How shall we do the exchange?
Im there, You put that one in the post box and Ill leave this one on the path on the other side of the road.
Shes like, Okay. Have you just come from Gwens?
Yeah, no, shes got Nigella Lawsons.
Well, maybe Ill just leave mine in her post box too. I dont want to disturb her.
A minute or two later, Im back in the gaff.
Im like, Thats our good deed done for the year, Sorcha.
Hopefully this thing will drag on for months and its September before we see her again
She steps out of the kitchen. She goes, Ross, I know youre mocking me, but little neighbourly gestures are important at a time like this. What have you got there?
Im like, Banana bread. Gwen Loscher and Joy Felton made you some.
Oh, for focks sake! she goes, suddenly losing it. Were trying to get rid of banana bread?
Er, what happened to little neighbourly gestures are important at a time like this?
Suddenly, theres a knock on the door. I shout through it. Im like, Who is it?
A voice goes, Its Anthea Shotton, who lives five houses down. Ive made you some banana bread. Its the Jamie Oliver one.
Im there, Er, just give me a second to think, Anthea.
Sorcha goes, What the fock, Ross? I sent you out with two banana breads and youve come back with three!
Ive got an idea, I go. Ill give her the one Joy Felton gave me. Its the Happy Pear one.
Sorchas like, What?
Seriously, she wont know that you didnt make it. It all tastes the same anyway.
So Im standing there with my back against the door.
Im like, Weve got some banana bread for you as well, Anthea.
Oh, she goes, sounding disappointed.
Im there, Leave yours on the doorstep, then take 10 steps backwards. Ill open the door and put this one out for you. Do you need me to repeat that?
No, she goes, I understand.
So I leave Joys banana bread out and I take Antheas banana bread in. And Sorcha looks definitely relieved.
Okay, she goes, at least were back to square one.
But thats when, suddenly, we hear Antheas voice outside, going, Ross? This is actually my banana bread youve given me.
Im there, It probably just looks like the same, Anthea. Its focking banana bread.
But its got Joy Feltons name on it, she goes, in my handwriting.
Sorcha grabs me by the wrist and drags me down the hallway to the kitchen.
Ignore her, she goes. Hopefully this thing will drag on for months and its September before we see her again.