Ch. 238; Vol. 10

You take the risk of begging questions when you open a book – of any kind – with Puck. Questions like…

“And those Egyptians who didn’t believe in God I guess are not in Heaven.”

The heavier issues of life can come to light after two sentences.

We’ve been doing a little experimentation with Puck’s nose and cat dander the last couple of weeks.

“I’m not allergic Mom. See?”

Big hair ball smashed in the eggplant blanket on his lap.

“I heard you sniffing.”

“I just was’t paying attention, Mom. I had a little snot. The snot dissolves in the night.”

What a boy.

It was Puck’s “Off Week”. An Off Week basically means no math, writing, or phonics. So Puck was pretty happy about that, just for the principle of the whole thing. And because he got an hour of Minecraft during Quiet Hour next to me on the couch. It is amazing just how effective that Quiet Hour can be with an iPad.

But I will not succumb.

“Listen to this, Mom. The cement is sharing the spirit with the tree. So if the cement dies, the spirit dies too. So that’s what I’m saying.”

Instead of accusing my son of being a new age hippie, moms know how to read between the lines. Someone had been listening to C.S. Lewis.

He built himself a farm while absent-mindedly singing “The Black Velvet Band” with non-Irish accent.

“Mom!” We had just left the house for groceries. “I forgot we left the balloon animals in the house with Crackers. What if she attacks them?”

“We’ll find out when we get back.”

“What if she thinks to herself, ‘Ooooh! I must destroy them for my master to eat!’”

“Look, MOM!” An eager face behind sunnies stared at me a few refrigerator doors down. “ORANGE MILK!”

Orange drink.

“That’s not milk, bud.”

“That’s my kind of milk,” a lady with her two kids laughed.

We hit the frozen foods on the way back where a mama with a young boy decided on a box of Little Debbie’s.

“Which one do you want?” she prodded.

“He’s not paying attention, I don’t think,” Puck informed her.

Always the informer. Fortunately she didn’t mind.

“I know he’s not paying attention,” she agreed.

We left with a cart of good things [and by good, yes, I do mean avocados, eggs, chicken and neutral things like that], purple rubber cat brush, and silver pack of Legos with gift receipt for a Saturday birthday celebration.

“Have you ever had a pet spider, Mom?”

I turned down the Spanish Bible CD.

“Nope. Never wanted one.”

“Why? What about a spider that wouldn’t bite?”

“No, I still don’t like them. They’re creepy looking.”

“Mom, ‘member the Bible says don’t kill your enemies.”

Then he mentioned something about being “popleear, popleear, popleear all the way!”

“Puck?”

Frozen face in the rearview mirror.

“Puck?… Puck, answer me.”

“I’m pretending like time stopped.”

“Satisfied, chickens?”

The sounds of Puck building virtual farms to Modeselektor.

Bær dined out at La Cocina Cuchara de Plata El Viejo, so Puck and I made our own fun. Specifically with cheese-stuffed crust pizza. It was originally intended for Thursday Movie Night, but sometimes you do what you gotta do. I wasn’t complaining. Puck wasn’t either.

[Indulgent Spirit]