Our year of pandemic life in Washington, D.C, included a lot of gloating from Canadians — for a while

I held my eight-year-old hand's tight while we walked across the campground from our cabin to the shared washroom. Golf carts whizzed by with Trump flags flapping behind them. Bright red MAGA hats were everywhere. People gathered in groups around campfires, teens hung out poolside and kids darted from one campsite to the next. And nobody wore masks. What had we gotten ourselves into?