Buddies

Puck was intensely studying the screen of the iPad at Gloria’s later that morning, full of breakfast and still in his footies. The perks of spending the night at grandparents’.

Bob was sleeping, Bob the Woolly Worm. Apparently none of his blossoms were enticing enough to snack on.

Myself, I had a bowl of Gloria’s sweet and sour Portuguese soup for lunch while Puck hid from more cars near the street. I watched from the window. The seven year-old knows he won’t erratically run into the street, but the cars don’t know that.

And Puck’s older buddy from church was coming over a little while later, the oldest child in the family originally from South Africa. I think the age gap is about five years, but they don’t seem to care. It’s Minecraft, make-believe, food as necessary. A lot of food. Today it was grilled cheese for lunch. I caught Puck stuffing his scruffy track pants pockets with kettle-fried potato chips as they walked out the front door for rollerblades and scooters in the cold early afternoon.

El Oso returned from his brief weekend retreat (third in two months) to show the boys how to film slow-motion clips in the backyard: tossing piles of dried oak leaves into the air, slapping a stuffed cow, etc. This was pretty exciting stuff.

The afternoon faded away faster than I expected. When the little sisters joined the slumber party, Puck and his buddy chatted over dinner near Bob the Woolly Bug.

“I eat, like, every minute,” Puck informed him.

This wouldn’t be far from the truth.

While Gloria ran out for a jug of breakfast milk, Puck and the littlest sister tried to impress each other with their socks.

“See how fast I can run in these?”

“They’re super grip.”