And We're Back
My dream in the night centered mostly around me rescuing tiny tropical fish from dry brown stone riverbeds in India near the train tracks. Analyzation is futile, of course. Then Carrie texted me about the tornado damage in U. City. It’s that time of year again.
Puck sat at the breakfast table staring at the fruit bowl, a solitary banana remaining on the week:
“I wonder how they got the bananas out of South Africa from the monkeys.”
El Oso set plates of cinnamon waffles on the table with orange-icing. No, he wasn’t working from home. Just felt in the mood for something sweet. I like this guy. Then he put a bowl in front of Puck with exactly one lasagna noodle sitting curled up in the bottom, fully cooked. The kid likes this stuff. But he also ate the waffles.
We were in for heavy storms all day long. Just cascades of them, one after another. Couldn’t be better.
School wrapped up. Puck found himself in Quiet Hour between sessions of rain, trying his hand an amateur film-making on the iPad. Legos style. Mostly involving scenes of terrified Lego people being smashed by Puck’s giant hand. He’s more like Rose than I thought.
His theme of aunt-emulating extended into the later afternoon while we read Beverly Cleary and Puck snacked on more cooked lasagna noodles. He won’t touch actual prepared lasagna, but the “bare” noodles? That’s another story.
“Can I have some smooshy pasta, actually, Mom? Onion would have been proud of that.”
Then Puck’s wedding suit arrived in the mail: elastic-banded black pants, collared lavender shirt, tie, and vest. He was a stud and he knew it:
“I look so handsome. I should wear this every day.”
Pork steak, cantaloupe, and Wall-E concluded our day until … 7:27 Tornado Siren. About time. Puck ran downstairs in footies, wellies, and Veggie Tale DVD. It’s times like this you discover your more precious possessions. Crackers trailed us on promises of cat treats.
Anyway, once the siren wrapped up, I concluded via radar and alerts that we were not in danger, even though Puck tried to convince me that we should stay down there longer and read more Garfield, despite the nearest sirens being conclusively off:
“I have very content ears, Mom. So does Crackers.”
I could only assume he meant “acute,” but he doesn’t know the word. So it was back into the bunk as heavy rain and light thunder tore briefly through the general area. Spring is back.