Ch. 203; Vol. 10

“MOM! Can we please sort through all these old receipts?!”

Nothing more thrilling on a Monday morning.

Most of them had faded to blank scraps over nine years, so I didn’t mind too much. A thin envelope from September – December of 2004. I sorted through, expelling all the bank receipts at least…

The reality that we lived off The Bear’s $10.50/hour at Stallone’s Formalwear those years ago is… pretty impressive to say the least.

Math waited.

Puck scanned his counting chart, hunting numbers…

“Firty-eight? Come on out, firty-eight? Where are you, firty-eight! There you are!”

It was regular Mathematics at the opera.

Puck burst back through the front door after a warm morning walk with soccer ball and volleyball – straight for the freezer…

“No freeze pop, Puck.”

[Repercussions from earlier misbehavior.]

“BUT, M-O-O-O-O-O-M!”

No answer.

“But I’m sweating to the BONE, Mom! I’m sweated TO THE BONE!”

And that was the end of it.

Quiet Hour.

Puck exited his room for the bathroom…

Half-naked.

Again.

He held up a copy of Chick-Fil-A’s latest comic book…

“Mom,” he announced importantly. “You will be very impressed with me when you hear this. The cow says – ‘Eat. More. Chicken.’”

Applause.

He retreated to his room for a few moments more and shut the door. Clearly, in the process of discovering further reading abilities, he had forgotten to do something important…

“Puck?”

“Coming, Mom.”

The door opened, as my still half-naked son scooted his desk chair, with a stack of Garfield – and Crackers – on top, across the hallway. And disappeared into the bathroom…

“EAT MORE CHICKEN!”

Maison de Argent Cuillère

– Dinner Menu –

Garlic & Herb Couscous

Caprese Salad Skewers with Reduced Balsamic Vinegar

Fresh Raspberries

We mix it up a little.

Puck set Crackers’ dinner dish inside the pillar of fresh Mazda-destined tires recently off the UPS truck.

“Don’t put that in there, Puck…”

“But, Mom! A good inventor has to do things!”

[Waiting for Sugar Crystals…]