2.5

With Oxbear still in Philly, Puck and I drove out for school once again on a Wednesday morning. Only two and a half days left in Second Grade. Faster and faster.

The morning was cold. Hasn’t felt like May lately. The only things that remind me it’s not still March is the green and the strong smell of honeysuckle from my backyard.

I walked into the lunch room at 10:15 for my final shift of the school year. Serving burgers and smiley fries with Lucy and Ethyl, slapping pickles and cheese on the plates of 5th and 6th graders already easily surpassing my five-foot-two-and-a-half mom-height.

For my part later that afternoon, I found a pretty quiet corner upstairs to finish Spanish, adoption checklists, and wrapped things up with Bengie Molina’s autobiography/biography about his father. It had been awhile since I couldn’t put down a book.

Dentist.

Fortunately for Puck, he isn’t aware of that concept of being afraid of the dentist. So he pretty much marches right back there every time. I tag along for any follow-up instructions.

“You’ve gotta brush your bottom teeth better,” he was warned about ten times before the visit was completed. “Use that two-minute timer I gave you, okay?”

“I like to take the timers apart though.”

“Well, don’t take them apart.”

“What if I take it apart but it still works?”

At the end of his cleaning session, Puck stood for a smile at the cavity-free board right before he raided the treasure box for two goodies: a “sticky man” and a pair of sweet gold and black plastic shades.

“Brush your teeth better,” he was warned once more before departure. “Or I’ll have to tell your mom on you!”

What can I say? It’s hardly his fault. The God distributed the quirks, this kid was handed out an over-active salivary gland.

Anyway, there was still time for some game, some Calvin and Hobbes, some clay sculpting (Puck found Oxbear’s old stash in the basement), and a dessert of bananas and clementines for dessert. Eternally grateful for a kid who eats fruits and vegetables like candy.