"I haven't left my house in 29 days," my friend said. "The only thing that would drive me out of my home is if a snake slithered in."

She is deathly afraid of snakes. She's even more afraid of snakes than she is of the coronavirus. But she is also in Chicago. She had a nice layer of snow on the ground and a rising COVID-19 death toll outside her window as she texted me. Odds are she won't be driven from her home any time soon. This contents her just fine.

But it is springtime near me. The trees' buds are reaching out to become fully bloomed. I, too, am itching to stretch my limbs, my mind, my spirit. Quarantine makes me feel trapped, held in place like a bud held by the sepal, protecting the flower from breaking free and blooming too early. There's danger in emerging before one should.

"It's like 'Little House on the Prairie,'" my friend in Chicago boasted. "I've made 10 loaves of bread!" My other friends chimed in that they, too, bought bread makers and reached out to their grandmothers for recipes for banana bread and zucchini bread and Irish soda bread. I cried to my husband that I am not meant to be a stay-at-home mom. Or a home-schooling mom. I was not cut out for life on the frontier.

I can't make bread, so I bought confetti cake mix. We hung party banners and filled the seats at our breakfast table with stuffed animals instead of friends to celebrate Teddy Bear's birthday. But I burned the cake.

It's springtime, a time associated with birth. But the spreading of new life is not what is spreading across the news.

I sent pictures of the charred cake to my friends. They asked why I had resorted to a box of Pillsbury instead of an old family recipe.

I don't have grandparents anymore. And even if I did, I doubt they'd have recipes to offer. I come from a long line of working women not cut out for staying at home. I come from a long line of women who never did. Friends say I'm lucky I don't have grandparents; it means I don't have to worry. They say I'm lucky I write jokes for a living; it means I don't have to feel scared. As if worry and fear are things with clear boundaries, rules and practitioners.

I've been a humor writer in various media for over a decade. It brings me great joy. But if I'm being honest, writing humor has been hard since kids were put in cages. In the era of COVID-19, it's all the more impossible. Necessary, but impossible.

We coated the burnt cake in extra icing to hide the blackness. Teddy Bear refused to open his mouth, so we ate his slices. Luckily, he didn't complain. Teddy seemed content. Just like the animal he was designed after. Just like my friend in Chicago. Some of us are faring better than others.

Mother Nature seems to be having her best time in years, if you ignore the human peril. When we lived in Los Angeles, my son had a cough. Every day of his first four years, he hacked away. Probably a sensitivity to the air pollution, his doctor said. But now LA has great air quality.

It's springtime. We all need fresh air. Today's home-schooling lesson plan featured fractions and spelling and Vincent van Gogh. We're finding our way in this new weird life, and despite telling my screaming children otherwise, I intend to keep both of my ears intact.

We stepped out onto the back porch. There, in a bush by our door, was a perfectly shed snakeskin. Pushing through the constraints to become someone new.

There is growth, even in times like these. We will all have new skin when this is over.

"To make bread rise," my friend instructed, "you need the right balance of ingredients and time."

In this time of Passover and Easter and a pink supermoon, a holy week in an uncertain season, I think I now understand.

Once outside, we watched a black rat snake slither into our basement. We decided to go on a walk. To stretch out. At least a snake inside will drive us out of the home. It's springtime, after all.

Katiedid Langrock is author of the book "Stop Farting in the Pyramids," available at http://www.creators.com/books/stop-farting-in-the-pyramids. Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about her and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.