In May, my 5-year-old son and I draped his bedroom in blankets from wall to wall, crawled inside and flew our imaginary ship all over the world. Jacob chose to visit places we couldn’t go because of the coronavirus, and we landed on the roof of Grandma’s house in the country and on the tippy top of Big Ben in London — so our first mate, Paddington, could see his city.
The baseball season was on hold at the time, so we didn’t swoop into Yankee Stadium or Citi Field, but those were two more favorite places we couldn’t go together this year. Among the sacrifices and losses of this pandemic, not being able to take your son to a baseball game is nowhere near the top of the list. Still, I missed going with him, and with his baby brother, Peter. Especially because, though Jacob knows baseball has something vaguely to do with his dad’s job, he’s recently begun to develop a bit more of a big-kid interest in the sport, asking new, more sophisticated questions about the games as we watch on TV.