Ch. 258; Vol. 10
Flat on my back on the floor of the sanctuary during Sunday School.
Flattering.
So much for that once-idea of being an emergency room doctor. Too many horrific birthing stories in a row, and I’m seeing tunnel vision. In my defense, I had eaten only two spoonfuls of Greek banana yogurt for breakfast. Maybe not so much in my defense… Anyway.
It’s only the third time in my life I’ve about passed out at church. So, I’d say that’s pretty good.
Then Puck’s nose made contact with a buddy’s head during a game of tag… some blood. I did good.
Ah, Sundays…
So…
The first couple hours of Sunday afternoons are basically news dumps.
Jaya had the flu, or strep or something.
Grandma Snicketts had pneumonia.
Puck thought he’d pass around the Costco-sized jar of chocolate-covered raisins until Carrie realized what was happening.
“Puck! Take those things away from Grandpa and Francis!”
Snatch.
And then…. Francis… had singlehandedly stopped a freight train with his iPhone the other night. I’m not even sure it’s necessary to get into that story right now. Although the police apparently thought it was funny, a quarter-mile of squealing brakes later…
Linnea and I discussed more in the kitchen – she had met the lead singer of Greek Fire on Friday night before Imagine Dragons, which apparently was also attended by my 35 year-old cousin – while Francis asked opinions on his beard.
“I like to feel the hairs,” he philosophized.
“You pet your beard like Bær does.”
Then Linnea accused him of looking like a hick, so I had him adjust his MIZZOU ball cap while he slipped both thumbs into his belt loops. My brother…
Snuggles was raccoon-ing for scraps.
Mom and Dad napped.
Rose and Carrie accused each other of crying. I guess it’s only something a Snicketts girl would put into a game.
“Look! Tear.”
“Rose. Do you remember when we were kids and we watched Fox and the Hound and you had tears in your eyes?”
“Well you did, too! We all did!”
Linnea requested a back massage from Puck.
“Step on my back, Puck.”
“I guess we should remove the cowboy boots first…” Bær suggested.
“Well, let’s not do anything rash here,” Carrie cut in. “I’m not sure I have enough bath salts to take care of the odor.”
Since Joe was nowhere to be found and Rose was leaving for Thunderbird’s and Annamaria’s before picking a co-worker up late at the airport, and Francis apparently had “studying” to do… everyone else walked the Busch Wildlife Loop. Childhood.
Snakes, ticks, spiders, general childhood destruction of nature…
Good times…
And Culver’s. Francis actually joined us in time to place his order.
“Wow, Francis must have taken the Butter Burger Express,” Carrie announced as he walked over with his stubbly beard.
Then he made some comment about trying to eat less fast food… after one more basket of butter burger and fries.
Puck was deposited into the shower for a much-needed clean-up before bed.
BANG! BANG! BANG! on the shower wall.
“He’s done,” I informed Bær, who had agreed to take shower duty.
“Done, son?”
“Ain’t I supposed to have a rag to wash my body with?! I haven’t done anything!”
“Use soap!”
“Ohhhh…”
“Puck, there’s water… everywhere…”
This… is my life.
I’m not complaining.
