Ch. 242; Vol. 10
“Mom, there’s another one on the floor!”
Puck pointed to the crumpled brown carcass on the linoleum. Cat had done her duty – two in two days – she stared heroically out the patio door.
Crackers: Great Spider Hunter.
But Puck was too busy to bother her with his own congratulations – TNT flags in Minecraft were more important; his own invention…
He chortled like an English gentleman, “I thought it was pretty funny myself.”
A few moments silence…
“Resting to your geodes! Resting to your geodes! Resting to your geodes!”
He also likes to chant meaningless battle cries during Minecraft.
My son doesn’t usually observe heat warnings.
Mr. Bossy Pants donned yellow FEMA helmet, led his parents [Bær given a 4-day weekend] in a march down a stifling street, everyone with a ball to kick: soccer or volleyball.
“Mom will have the lightest ball,” he handed me the red, white, and blue gift from Linnea. “Because she is wearing flip-flops.”
Fifteen minutes around half the neighborhood, Puck administering rules and regulations for what the sports balls could, and could not, do. Legislating “surprises” for whoever could keep them from rolling into yards, sewers, cracks, or hands. Or when unavoidable…
“Ok, Mom. I will give you one more chance. Once more chance!” Said Spindle Legs grown 3/4 inch in seven weeks that summer.
When we returned – plastered with heat – Puck rolled open a generous trinket drawer without hesitation. Bær was first…
Puck casually flipped an ornately stitched red silk sunglasses case from one of the aunts, to his father. “Put this under your bed during thunderstorms, and you get more prizes.”
I got the Rubik’s cube and a glass shamrock. Also, the little soapstone owl we brought back for him from Antigua. Then he changed his mind about it. Bær also received an old shower head and the remote control to Puck’s wall moon buddy, which eventually became plans for a new invention…
“It can change the moon or anything,” Puck discussed.
“Like a transmogrifier?” Bær clarified.
Yes.” – Like he was delivering a lecture to 300 students on the benefits of cardiovascular exercise. –“Anything you can imagine in your brain. And this. Shall be shared with all the family.”
He momentarily disbanded the talk and emerged with a towel around his neck to soak up the sweat from our excursion and another band-aid on his elbow that I had somehow missed earlier.
“JELLY JELLY JELLY JELLY JELLY ALL THE WAY!”
Someone was enjoying his lunch sandwiches.
Puck needed some uninterrupted Nana time, which was convenient, considering that we still felt like celebrating Number Nine, despite the 103 heat index swallowing the city. Briefly explored tours to Greenland’s hot springs. We should do something for Number Ten…
As we drove off, Puck watered parched florals on the porch, promised games of UNO and library books after a drive to the post office with Gloria.
Anyway, spend-the-night for Puck, and an early Friday start for us.
Cheese curds to get the conversation started off at a baking three o’clock.
Orange Leaf in Chesterfield: Pinepple and Snickerdoodle topped with mini peanut butter cups and cookie dough [should have left off the pb cups] to decide whether to stay or go the fourteen year dynasty.
Trader Joe’s: cider and better pb cups; I waited in the car and contemplated the axe.
Mobile: five bucks in the black truck; pressing thin in heavy traffic.
Green China: beef lo mein and egg rolls for Bær, sweet ‘n sour pork for me, crab rangoon to split.
Schnuck’s Redbox: “The Sapphires”: Aboriginal Australia, Irishman, Vietnam. Very good. Chris O’Dowd is another Stanley Tucci after all.
