Ch. 164; Vol. 10
Atlantis.
The museum – half on land, half in sea. Aegean blue ruins in the deep. And all my family visited the donut of a floor paired around the abyss. The gift shops and art galleries, the intense Imax reality of descending below floor-level into the blue pool. A moss-green-clay-blue leather fleece-lined bomber jacket for Dad, Father’s Day.
Crackers was tearing it up this morning. Crazed yellow eyeballs running the house. One can never presume why. But when my very full breakfast water glass went crashing and slipping all over the polished wood kitchen table – why do I allow these articles into my house – it was time to corral the beast.
Puck interrupted breakfast several times for squeezing hugs around my neck, juice sticking his hands and cheeks to my face…
“Go sit down, apple fingers.”
“Apple doodles! HA-HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”
The Bear, our Bear, was 29. I celebrated with cold crab rangoon for breakfast. The Bear celebrated by employing his son to retrieve his eyeglasses from under the monster of our bed…
“I need a special small person for an excavation mission!”
And Puck celebrated by just being happy-happy-almost-always-happy Puck.
“Let’s play UNO, Mom! I’ll take a bite each time I play!”
We got in two rounds before Puck noticed Crackers watching our bunny-under-the-shed friend. Personal Peter Rabbit without a vegetable garden.
“Well, I want to give her something to eat, a little more tastier.”
Puck found me in the bathroom to brush his teeth. He rolled a chunk of turquoise sleeve up to his shoulder, revealing the thick chain of Mom’s childhood charm bracelet. Without the charms…
“Check this out, Mom. To show I’m TOUGH!”
He demonstrated this toughness by taking his Strider on a spin, up and down, up and down. He employed a Clementine Izze for nourishment, which he left inside because…
“Make sure no ants come charging into the house because they might notice the drink in there and want to drink it and drown in it and I don’t want to drink dead ants.”
That settled it.
I guess he didn’t completely trust my ant-deflection skills, because he soon lugged the bike back indoors.
The Magic School Bus and other thoughts inspired further ideas at lunch…
“How long does it take for you to get back to your normal size and stop being fat once you get back from space?”
Bundled back the roses with bread ties. Easy. Effective. Birdsong in a warm afternoon, and green, hoping for some rain.
Roll the Clock.
Our newest game continued in the living room for awhile.
Bubbling lasagna filling the house with aroma.
I think. My sense of smell is still usually distorted.
The Silver Chair: BBC rounded out the week, as far as normal events was concerned.
“GOTCHA!”
– Puck returned from the kitchen with a gray beast slung over both arms, wickedly grinning… –
“Now all I need is some salt and butter!”
Crackers did not look as terrified as maybe she was expected to be.
The Bear ended his birthday at Man Summit, devoid of Red Strike who was in New York on business. Probably beer and pizza. And I found myself wrapped up in baseball documentary and soft-baked Schnucks cookies. [But the chocolate ones were gone, and those were my favorite.]
We like short-circuit themes… and long-circuit.
