Ch. 213; Vol. 10

Last night, Puck walked out of his room with a small whiteboard and dry erase marker in his hands…

“Dad? How do you write, ‘I do not accept’?”

“Son, you are supposed to be asleep. Go back to your room.”

About ten minutes later, The Bear left to make an ice cream run, and found the white board sitting on top of Puck’s Strider in his room.

The story apparently went something like this – Monday night, The Bear had taken the Strider away from Puck for some reason I don’t know about. Puck had come to understand that this punishment was to last more than one full day. So when he realized that The Bear had given him the bike back too early, he felt the need to refuse the offer. And I guess because he didn’t know how to write the whole thing out – “I don’t accept.” – he had instead drawn a picture of himself with his name and his bike, crossed out.

And here I had just thought he was being a stinker about the whole thing.

“Mom, could I have an egg-in-the-nest for brefftest?”

“Sure… we can do that today.”

“Could I eat it in the back of the pick-up truck?”

“Ask your dad.”

“Dad” said “yes”.

So they did.

Breakfast in the bed of a pick-up truck.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Puck.”

He eyed me building his toasted peanut butter sandwich at the counter for lunch.

“Does that peanut butter have big nuts in it?”

“You mean chunky?”

“Yes.”

“It does not. It’s creamy.”

“Aw…”

“I know you and Dad like chunky, but I don’t like chunky. And you and dad still like creamy, like I do.”

“Well, next time, Mom, when you go to the store and get peanut butter, get some of the big peanut butter for me and Dad. And get some for your own self. And when [my baby brudder in Colombia] comes, if he likes… if he likes… the other kind of peanut butter like you do, he can be on your team and you can share the peanut butter jar.”

Dilemma, solved.

Puck coasted down the driveway to find his little friend once more. The tiny miss had just returned from the pool. After soaring through stacks of learning – Medieval hunts, world maps, germs, history of clothing, C.S. Lewis, cuneiform, and children’s poems, he was ready for fresh mosquito-infested air. Fortunately for all of us, the mosquitos didn’t seem to like the streets too much. Crackers watched anxiously from the window after a four hour nap on Puck’s bunk bed.

Speaking of Crackers…

She hasn’t been holding up her end of the bargain lately.

Two spiders in the past month?

Not part of the deal we made, sister.

Someone was slacking.

Anyway, my son finally has a little neighborhood friend. The possibility of bike gangs, battle scars – he got a few of those on Wednesday hitting pavement off the bike…

So after all that teaching, reading, book-writing, and just being a mom and taking care of everything, it was time for me to enjoy some more “Korean”, while The Bear socialized in the city… and while I tracked the poor chaps in red up in Pittsburgh hoping to cut off the flood.

Adoption Status: Down: 3 years, 11 months; To Go: 2 years, 4 months.