Ch. 192; Vol. 10
The fridge coils needed cleaning. Again. The Bear – up at five – had already begun cleaning out the cat hair. [And I thought she didn’t shed much.] The water dispenser, thus, was working again properly. But the freezer had not yet completely frozen, and the fridge had not yet completely defrosted…
“DAD!! WE NEED TO CALL A PLUMBER!!”
I served Puck his breakfast while he sent a plate of fried eggs back to The Bear in his office…
“CRACKERS ARE YOU EATING MY EGG!?”
Firecracker red cloth belt. Puck enjoys wrapping this long thin item of my clothing around his head… [He also enjoys imitating tornado sirens… Lately… A lot…]
“MAKE A KARATE ON MY HEAD, MOM!”
I helped him tie it carefully around his head…
“Just like kree-ah-tee people do to keep their shirts on.”
At least he had explained the purpose of the color belts.
Academia…
“But let me tell you something, Mom. The elephant is the biggest animal on land. But the whale is the biggest in the ocean. The elephant is the biggest on land. But. If you asked what the biggest animal is, I would ask – the whale. The elephant is like a little speck compared to the whale. He is like a little speck next to that whale.”
A morning walk under mild sun brought us back home to resume studies…
“Puck, you need to sit in the chair, not on the couch.”
“Mom, I’m regenerating here. So Crackers can sit with me.”
Regenerating? This is a Phonics lesson, not the season finale of Doctor Who.
Bang!
Crackers slammed into my leg, trimmed claws grappling at my legs.
“Crackers! Stop!”
Puck observed the situation from his desk chair…
“Mom. You know how I have moles on my legs and you don’t?”
“I probably have some moles on my legs. Why?”
“Well, see how I just have some moles here?”
He pointed a chubby finger to a few dark specks on his knee…
“Crackers might be detected to skin. And skin is white.”
“Yeah, I guess my skin’s pretty white…”
“Why don’t you paint your skin brown?”
Somehow I get the idea I was involved in some sort of ridiculous unintentionally racist discussion. But I wasn’t sure.
I’m not certain how it happened, but Crackers somehow got a bath after lunch.
When half-naked Puck ran out of the bathroom to grab a towel, I knew he had distracted himself from the initial intent of using the bathroom for other – regular – purposes.
“Calm down, Crackers.”
“Meow!”
“I’m just trying to get you dry.”
“Meow!”
“Puck?…”
“Crackers is a whiner, Mom…”
He bundled her up in about eight different blankets on his bed during Quiet Hour and read books. A peaceful spectacle.
Then drew faces on his legs during his afternoon writing lesson.
Jerusalem Shewermas.
Except that the cucumber and tomato had wrinkled into mushy organic substances and were inoperable for the meal, due to the fridge malfunction. So… sort of shewermas.
Treasure Island. The old one.
Books before bed, including Puck’s newest favorite selection from the library – “Oh, Ducky!”. He did have one request, however, which he spoke in a tone best reserved for job termination of a 64 year-old employee…
“Please don’t read with expression, Mom.”
