Blue Day
Monday, February 27, 2012
Collette prepared scrambled eggs and toast for Puck’s breakfast. After awhile of pondering the best way to fork over the straggling scraps…
“Mama? Can you pick up those eggs? They’re too squirmy for me to pick up.”
The morning began with sunshine and mild temperatures, mirroring Sunday’s. Hadn’t they said something about it being the 4th mildest winter in over 100 years…
As classwork commenced, and further readings from novels to the little man, Puck hopped off the couch halfway through a chapter…
“I will be right back,” he said, walking towards the bathroom. “I’m going to see if I can see my eyebrows in the mirror.”
A little more “basketball” was conjured on the driveway in the late morning beside the front yard strewn in purple crocus, which had been blooming already for weeks.
Meanwhile, Collette had received another correspondence from the Chinese clothing company…
Dear friend
Thanks 🙂
have a nice day
you are kind and gentle
when your future order
please tell me your order number befroe you paid at here
I will give you the lowest price then you pay
it can save your money
Best regards
Only in China. The final piece of December shipment arrived in the form of a gray tunic sweater, which smelled like musty attic, in the afternoon mail.
With the approach of noon, Puck scarfed down the peanut butter sandwich over more Adventures in Odyssey, and Collette began a thin read recommended by Dad – Real Education including the passing necessity of brick and mortar schools, as she had predicted nine years ago.
OLeif returned with groceries that evening, including a wrapped rectangular can of kippers, which he immediately tried on toast.
Puck attended dinner, polishing off the meal with a few salt and vinegar chips and some fruit…
“Daddy, cut the moosh out of the banana. I don’t like moosh.”
Later, he walked back to see OLeif in the library and returned carrying his completed supper bowl. He wrinkled his nose as he set it down on the table…
“Here is Daddy’s disgusting bowl of duh deff [the death],” he said, as if reluctant to crown his dad’s eating selections so liberally.
Collette washed up the dishes as Puck finished off his glass of water.
“Are you closing down the shop?” he asked, as he watched her mark items off the white board checklist.
When Puck was deposited in the covers not long later, Collette told him to be careful with his prayers, and not to be so blasé. Then OLeif joined them. Puck squeezed him around the neck…
“I love you! Get that horrible smell off of my nose!”
Apparently some stray kipper remained in the air. And as OLeif and Collette left the room, Puck could be heard proclaiming…
“BLASÉ! BLASÉ! BLASÉ!”
OLeif’s evening was studies, studies, studies, now 16/57th through his semester.
Collette checked into purchasing toothbrushes in bulk.
Rain was coming.