All in a Day's Work

“I finished all my food and all my water and I was on White today.”

The walking school report marched past me as Puck exited his classroom on the way to the gym. He’s growing up, I guess.

Like Sunday during the service where he felt the sudden need to excuse himself. Turns out he managed to not only clog the church toilet but also to de-clog it without assistance or prompting. I just saw him run off down the hall for the plunger – somehow he already knew where to locate it – “Don’t worry, Mom! I can unclog it!” With no one the wiser.

So it was a Tuesday morning and I had to make a stop in at the Big House to see my manicurist after six weeks of neglect. While Carrie scraped my nails, Francis – just returned from business and astronomy finals – argued with Linnea about stuff.

“So, I broke the blind stick and…”

“Francis, you broke my blind stick?!”

“Yeah. So?”

“Do you know how long it took me to find that?”

“Hey, it’s just a blind stick. You can get another one. I just thought it was Grandma’s. Didn’t she have eye surgery once?”

My siblings are so sensitive.

And apparently politically correct as well.

I guess Linnea forgot to be angry at Francis though because twenty minutes later they were recording beat poetry with a mini bongo drum from Antigua for the podcast on my laptop in Dad’s office. Linnea was laughing so hard, she couldn’t get through a take.

I could hear them chastising each other for things as they walked back up the stairs.

“My bones hurt.”

“Your bones literally don’t hurt. They have no feeling.”

Two hours at Ditto, steaming and hanging clothes. Passes in a snap. Two sweaters to satisfy El Oso’s quest to continue inspiring thoughts of Norwegian fisherman. Three loaves of honey wheat in Kirkwood. School. And that glowing report.

Puck had just enough time to terrorize the local street with Anna and another neighbor kid before dinner. They direct traffic around them as necessary. It’s a slow street.

El Oso had just enough time to pick up his violin and a five-minute dinner before an almost-forgotten rehearsal in Dardenne Prairie. I didn’t envy him the cold ride back out there. A second-hand Eddie Bauer sweater helped.