Aside from Baseball
I was awake by seven [despite the midnight video-clip-watching from Busch] because I have a six year-old son…
“The sun is just peeping over the hills. Time to wake up, sleepy heads!”
A green caterpillar had taken a ride on my jeans from the park, Friday. While Puck and I had run in for brownies and apple juice at Schnuck’s – hey, I can celebrate baseball with bad food – he crawled away someplace. Puck put some green leaves in the drink holder, but Saturday morning, little green still hadn’t emerged…
“Prob’ly he left his bones that we can’t see very well,” Puck reasoned.
Panko-breaded tilapia and butter-spread sweet potato at lunch. Puck had some buttered toasted Hawai’ian rolls on the side. And one of those king sized Reeses cups Carrie forgot to take home after Monday night’s game.
Between roller skates and Minecraft, Puck ran back inside from cold breezes…
“I hooked my nose on a forn [thorn]!”
He also tried to cajole a band-aid out of me for an invisible “little blood drop”.
Carrie and Rose dropped in mid-afternoon: Goodwill hunting for Gloria’s “Mrs. White” CLUE costume party Monday night. Doesn’t every mother-in-law take her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law’s sisters, shopping? Gloria updated them on the status of a fresh green-and-white plant sent to her after Grandma’s funeral [still sounds strange to write that].
“I think it was overwatered,” she agreed.
“Yeah, well, Mom…” Carrie said, “…she has them all on the same schedule.”
“Regardless of how much water they actually need,” Rose added.
“To be fair,” Carrie considered.
And Papa Murphy’s on the way back. Rose picked up a bottle of Coke.
While the pizza baked and Carrie worked on Gloria’s costume, Rose switched on several episodes of “My Cat from Hell”. I’m sure this a perfectly normal way for people to spend Saturday evenings.
“Onion,’ Puck warned. “I don’t think you should dress up Stinkberbelle as a spider for Hallowe’en. Because cats eat spiders…”
Later that night, Bær tossed Crackers a few pieces of raw beef. A thought occurred to me…
“I sort of get the idea that the reaction some people have to a good glass of whiskey, is what I have to a good brownie.”
Bær laughed.
“I slam my wrapper down on the table.”
“Yeah,” Bær agreed. “’Hit me again! This is gonna be a long night!’”