April 8

Puck bravely took a few more steps. He slid his foot carefully across the rug as he held bent arms out to his sides, and his body rocked back and forth trying to steady himself.
In the morning, he and Collette were busy making soup in the pasta sieve: two socks, a rubber duck, a shoe, a kite in a circle pouch, and a business card. Collette showed him how to stir the mixture with a large rubber-handled spoon. Puck took out the crumpled business card and handed it to her.
“Oh, my dinner invitation. Thank you, Puck. What’s on the menu for tonight, Mr. Chef?”
Puck thought about this while he sat with ankles crossed.
“Will it be old socks a la mode?”
Puck wasn’t sure and stuck his toes in his mouth for inspiration.
Then the thunder came. Puck whirled around occasionally to wonder where the sound had come from.
When OLeif came back for lunch, after Collette and Puck had read Goodnight Moon from Great Grandma Snicketts, Puck was busy gnawing on a long red QT straw, which had become one of his toys of the week. He looked like an elephant with a red trunk.
That evening, OLeif and Collette watched part of a documentary on cracking the ancient Mayan language.