Children Bread

Puck sat at the dinner table last night holding a long arrow in one hand while he prepared to eat his meal. I’d noticed the arrow sticking out of the tree in our front yard that morning on the way to school. Puck eventually retrieved it and continued demonstrating to me just how sharp the tip was, mostly by stabbing it through a Famous Amos cookie box he retrieved from the recycling bin at school.

“Mom! See how sharp that is! That’s AMAZINGLY sharp!”

Fortunately the owner of the arrow was later found and the arrow was returned. If it’s one thing I probably don’t need, it’s my boys shooting arrows around the house.

“I remember the first time I learned how to close my mouth while I was eating,” Puck was saying, twirling the arrow.

“You do, huh?”

“It was Christmas Eve. I was probably about four. The day before Christmas at Grandma’s house. And I was at the table and there was this sort of “jellyish” meat sitting right here…”

“Jellyish meat?”

“You know that round red stuff?”

“Canned cranberry sauce?”

“Yes, and then some bowls of candy right here. And there were some meats and other food over here. That is the day I learned to chew with my mouth closed.”

I have to admit, he does keep his mouth closed while eating, and has for years. To my great relief.

After a lunch that included about one pound of hot grass-fed pork belly from the oven – Puck loves his “bacon” – and naps for two of my three boys, we spent the rest of that drizzly afternoon at the Silverspoon house.

Admired Swanson’s newly purchased Texan-made saddle for Rocket. A group video chat with Kitts and the kids up in Boston. Had some chocolate from the chocolate drawer. Yes, my mother-in-law has reserved a special drawer in her house for me that she weekly stocks with chocolate.

And since we were five days out from St. Patrick’s Day, Gloria had cooked up a spread of corned beef, potatoes, carrots, lots of Kerry Gold butter, and homemade Irish soda bread.

“Puck! Want some Irish soda bread?” Oxbear called to him.

Puck walked into the room and wrinkled his nose. “What’s in it? Children?”

“Children? Why would there be children in Irish soda bread?”

“Oh! I thought you said it was children bread!”