Ch. 222; Vol. 10
Friday night, Puck buckled himself into the car. Dug a hand into his glass jar of pocket change – the full contents of his piggy bank. Handed it to me.
“I want you to have this, Mom. For my baseball ticket. Because you gave me your allowance to get a ticket.”
There might be Jekyll & Hyde days, but he is my sweet boy.
The Bear mixed guacamole with Greek yogurt.
“Kitty told me about that,” said Gloria, handing him the container of yogurt. “Oh! Gotta get back to the chicken!”
She was grilling under the deck, and sweet potatoes.
“There,” The Bear offered a completed guacamole. “Try that dip, Puck. It’s a dip from Heaven.”
Puck only wrinkled his nose and replied solemnly…
“It’s not a dip from Heaven. It’s a dip from hell.”
“Did he just say that?” I asked, half-distracted from editing.
“Yup,” said The Bear with a laugh. “Are you surprised? He’s got a brain.”
Oh my child.
He has much to learn.
Theodore returned from the office, installing a lamp fixture. Gloria and The Bear talked about books-to-read lists, Theodore and The Bear talked about perspectives and stuff. I finished some work and continued reading Joseph Cotten’s biography. It’s always weird reading books during the day. Puck crafted mines. And Izzy walked in the door at around four o’clock from an engagement photo shoot. Gloria offered chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream, which I of course accepted.
“DAD! CAN WE BUILD A SPACESHIP OF LEGOS!”
Gloria, Theodore, and Izzy left for church at five o’clock: Japanese missionaries in town.
Puck pretended to sleep on the way home, but couldn’t help smiling to give himself away. Besides, he was distracted with the musical numbers on Prairie Home Companion, which The Bear likes to play on the Saturday drives home sometimes.
We were spawned from opposite worlds, him and me, to use a Puck term.
Clip, clip.
Whirr-vroom.
The Bear and Puck sliced branches on the jungly fences, mowed the yard. Until Puck put on a crash helmet and joined his little friend on our very own promenade. At least in the summer evenings. It’s usually a regular parade of bikes.
I thought it was taking a little long for Puck to finish his shower. Then I heard the sound of duct tape ripping from somewhere in the back rooms. I knew The Bear was back there with him, so I didn’t investigate. Twenty minutes later, Puck walked out with a duct-taped envelope pouch which housed a broken iPod. Puck padded out to show me…
“Want to see how awesome Dad is?”
“Very cool, man. Did you tell Dad that?”
“DAD THANK YOU! YOU’RE AWESOME!”
I heard him talking as he walked away…
“I bet the other kids are all jealous because I have a awesome dad.”
[Relics of my childhood.]