December 21
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
6:34.
Puck was up. He got busy pulling the light-cover (aka flattened carboard box) from his window to make special tunnels.
“I blew up my wake-up box!” he declared happily.
That piece of cardboard had served them well over the last nearly four years. Complete blockage of light, providing for sound sleeping during the summer nights and winter mornings.
During breakfast…
Dad’s daily devotional. He had not skipped a day in sending it out for the past two years.
And Puck could be heard mumbling to himself, “I don’t exist. I don’t exist.”
Hmmm…
And Puck learned further magic tricks with a tenth of a card deck.
Meanwhile, in the almost spring-like of the day…
Laundry. Puck felt himself very useful in adding the detergent and shoving the laundry into the wash, then dumping it into the dryer when it had finished being cleaned.
UPS brought OLeif’s new shoes. He had already gone off to work in a pair of new brown Steve Madden Oxfords, looking very sharp. And now he had a pair of Skechers to add to his collection.
As the morning continued…
“Are you a grandma, Mama?”
“No, buddy. I won’t be a grandma for a long time.”
“I want you to be a grandma though.”
“I won’t be a grandma until you get married and have a baby.”
“I have a baby right in my tummy. See?” he said, pulling up his shirt. “It’s big.”
“Why do you think you have a baby?”
“Because I’m married.”
“Who are you married to?”
“I’m married to you!”
“You can’t marry me. I’m already married to Daddy.”
“I can marry you, because I’m thaaaaaat big!”
“But you have to marry another girl.”
“Lila!”
Clearly, the whole idea was lost upon the little fellow…
Later, Puck was concerned that he would not be allowed his Quiet Hour.
“If I don’t have a Quiet Hour, I would scuffocate (suffocate)!” he declared, eyes wide.
Lunch arrived with grilled cheese.
Spanish.
During Puck’s ‘Quite Hour’, the big chunky pink piggy bank split right down the middle. A perfectly clean break.
“I’m sorry, Mama!” Puck cried out, which was his usual immediate response following breaking something.
And the afternoon began with a walk around the cold gray of the neighborhood. On bike for Puck. He was off and away.
“My bum is flat,” he announced after a time.
And when he began to hit a decline in the road…
“I’m making speed!” he said happily. “I’m going speed!”
Meanwhile…
When having come across a rather humorous idea of a website the previous afternoon, couresty of Old Blue, Collette had noted the…
Full List of Stuff White People Like1
…and also noted, accordingly, which generally, mostly, applied to herself correctly:
A grand total of 23% of the full list.
Back home…
Puck was in the bubble bath while Collette researched Penguin Publishers (she had always liked their book covers best), Portuguese Simão’s transfer from Atletico Madrid to a Turkish team, and recipes for pancakes.
That night, OLeif was out with Ethiopia and Ruby-Julia to discuss business, while Ethiopia prepared them dinner of pork roast and potatoes.