33 : Magical Unicorns Riding Tomatoes

“Magical unicorns riding tomatoes! … MAGICAL UNICORNS RIDING TOMATOES!”

Puck was awake, and obnoxious. This called for the park.

Before we left, Gloria suggested the possibility of summer camp for Puck before school started. Puck wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

“Well, you liked Mrs. Vermeer’s Art Camp, didn’t you?”

“Yes. But I don’t want to go to another one,” he said, sliding face-first down the red chair in the living room. “That would be rude to Mrs. Vermeer.”

 

On the drive out, Puck had thoughts.

“Eating at Nana’s is like eating at a restaurant,” he told me. “Plus, she always restocks your food for you. She’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

And later…

“I miss our old red car, Mom.”

“I do, too. But it was too small for Dad anyway. This car is too small for Dad, too. He’s a big guy.”

“Yeah. I’m like Dad. He grows out and up at the same time. I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

It didn’t take long for Puck to find a buddy at Faust Park. Later, I heard them chatting in a plastic tunnel about whether or not “Oh my word!” was a “bad word”.

While I listened to Puck’s temporary friend’s Korean aunt and cousin talk about church camps and car problems on the other side of the bench, I kept an eye on the rock across the playground where a big black snake had been hanging out during our walk in. Hate snakes.

 

When I did ask Puck about those “magical unicorns riding tomatoes”, he told me he’d made it up.

“Why?”

“Because they’re awe-shum.”

“Why are they awesome?

“Because they don’t exist. That’s why they’re awesome. If they did exist, that would be freakish.”

 

Some time, and some busyness later, it was movie night. Carrie-Bri and Francis. Rose was still in Colorado. Homemade cookies. A little St. Louis/Miami baseball. And some laughs over very laugh-worthy ghost hunting shows.

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Jamie Larson
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