Amelia Bedelia Single-Handedly Creates Coronavirus Hot Spot by Hilariously Misunderstanding Safety Instructions

Amelia Bedelia woke up one April morning and went over to Mr. and Mrs. Rogers’ house.

 

“Amelia!” cried Mrs. Rogers. “Come inside!”

 

“What’s going on?” asked Amelia. She was confused because Mr. Rogers was wiping the furniture with Lysol wipes; he usually waited to do that until she had messed it up.

 

“Haven’t you heard?” asked Mrs. Rogers. “It’s the coronavirus!”

 

“Oh no!” cried Amelia. “I just saw a man drinking one on his porch! I hope he’s okay!”

 

“No, silly!” laughed Mrs. Rogers. “It’s not beer; it’s a pandemic that started in China! Now the whole world is fighting it!”

 

“That sounds worse!” said Amelia.

 

“It sure is!” said Mrs. Rogers. “So as you can imagine, we really need your help in here today.”

 

“Say no more!” said Amelia. “I’ll take it from here.”

 

“Perfect!” said Mrs. Rogers. Mr. Rogers and her went upstairs to do British stuff on Zoom while Amelia got to work. An hour later, Mrs. Rogers returned to the kitchen;

 

“Amelia!!” she cried. “What have you done?! Why is the window broken???”

 

“Because of the pandemic!” said Amelia. “I had to get those things out of here as quickly as possible!”

 

“Amelia!” cried Mrs. Rogers. “The pandemic doesn’t have anything to do with pans!”

 

“Oh, rats,” said Amelia. “Well at least now we’ll get some fresh air!”

 

“The air is full of germs, Amelia!! Also- why are there broken dishes in the sink!?!”

 

“I wanted to punish the china!” said Amelia.

 

“Not the dishes!” cried Mrs. Rogers. “Those were expensive! And that’s xenophobic!! You know what, Amelia; maybe you should take a walk. How about you fetch us some groceries from down the street?”

 

“Okay!” said Amelia.

 

“And find a mask to wear on your face. You could be an asymptomatic carrier!”

 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Rogers; I’m a human!” said Amelia. “But I’ll find a mask.”

 

Mrs. Rogers breathed a sigh of relief as she shut the door. She poured herself her two o’clock wine, but it wasn’t long before she heard police sirens and her phone rang.

 

“Hello?” she said.

 

“Mrs. Rogers? Officer Phillips. We’ve got a woman here harassing a customer. Says you told her to do it.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Officer,” said Mrs. Rogers. “I’ll be right there.”

 

When Mrs. Rogers arrived at the Quik Mart, she found Amelia with her face firmly plastered against the chiseled abs of a bleach-blonde man in a crop top.

 

“Amelia!!” she cried. “What in the heavens are you doing??”

 

“I’m putting a masc on my face!” Amelia mumbled into his taut, tanned skin. “Just like you told me to!”

 

“AMELIA!” shouted Mrs. Rogers. “I meant an essential piece of medical protective equipment designed to prevent the spread of germs, not a purportedly masculine member of the homosexual community!”

 

“Ohhh,” mumbled Amelia. “Well, I’m already here…”

 

Mrs. Rogers tugged Amelia up by her bodice and apologized to the assembled crowd.

 

When they got back to the house, Mrs. Rogers sat Amelia down on the couch. “Honey. I need you to take this seriously.”

 

“Okay!” said Amelia, licking the young man’s sweat off of her upper lip.

 

“The only way to beat the coronavirus is by working together. That’s how we flatten the curve!”

 

“Uh-huh!” said Amelia.

 

“Okay. Mr. Rogers and I are going to do the housework that we pay you to do. Can I trust you to just stay downstairs and flatten the curve?”

 

“You betcha!”

 

It wasn’t ten minutes before Mrs. Rogers heard a shriek from the doorway and returned to find Amelia with the mail-lady Doreen in a WWE-style submission hold on the Persian rug.

 

“AMELIA!!!!” she bellowed. “What on GOD’S GREEN EARTH have you done to Doreen!?!”

 

“I’m flattening the curve!” cried Amelia, ritualistically smashing the poor woman’s protuberant hipbones into the floor. “I gotta tell ‘ya, Mrs. Rogers, this ass doesn’t quit, but neither do I!”

 

“That’s IT!!!!!” cried Mrs. Rogers. “Doreen, I’m so, so sorry. Hopefully our old friend Benjamin can sort this out. LISTEN UP, Amelia. Your mind-boggling misinterpretations have ceased to be quirky and endearing. You have SERIOUSLY endangered our community today. Imagine if you had the virus!! Now that poor man and the police officer have been exposed, as well as Doreen and everyone she delivers to! I mean have you even had a test for coronavirus???”

 

“Actually,” said Amelia. “I think my doctor did give me a test at my checkup!”

 

“Really?!” asked Mrs. Rogers. “Well what did it say!?”

 

“Don’t worry,” said Amelia, patting her on the shoulder. “It came out good.”

 

“You’re sure?” asked Mrs. Rogers.

 

“Yep!” cried Amelia. “I’m positive!”

Mrs. Rogers let a pregnant pause fall between them. Then her eyes burst wide:

 

“YOU IMBECILE!!!! YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING MORON GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY GODDAMN HOUSE THIS INSTANT!!!” she cried, grabbing a fly swatter off of the wall and using it to back Amelia towards the entrance. “IT WAS ONE THING WHEN YOU DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO USE A FUCKING BROOM BUT NOW YOU’VE GONE AND PUT OUR FUCKING LIVES IN DANGER YOU GODDAMN BIRD-BRAINED DIMWIT!!!! YOU BETTER MAKE LIKE THE WIND TO THE NEAREST FUCKING HOSPITAL AND STAY THERE YOU GODDAMNED TWA-”

 

But she didn’t have to tell Amelia twice! She was already out on the street, running to and fro with the fervor of a hurricane! She pushed against car doors, knocked over traffic cones, sent gusts of her breath through open windows. As she passed people on the streets, she’d tickle their arms and ruffle their hair. When she reached the hospital a few days later, Amelia was greeted by a cacophony of coughs and sirens; they swelled as she approached, like raucous applause, as if to congratulate her for doing the right thing.