Don't Jip the Kid

It was Linnea-Irish’s big day. Not graduation; that wasn’t until Saturday. Monday was for the removal of her braces, only three months longer than promised.

When she returned after lunch, I think she had forgotten how to smile a real smile, after hiding the train tracks for over two years. Anyway, it looked good.

Meanwhile, Carrie-Bri and I had wrapped up Episode 39, always hunting out better corners of the house to erect our studio on a twice-a-week basis. Today, it was Dad’s office, which will on occasion sport a little mold growth if the rainy season’s been a good one. Then there’s the creaky floor boards above us if pedestrian traffic doesn’t keep out of Mom’s and Dad’s room. There’s always some technical issue to resolve before the real recording can begin. An easy half hour later, it was a wrap. Doesn’t take much.

Carrie prepped bowls of taco soup for lunch. Francis walked in from the garage covered in dirt and grease and who knew what else, from working on the innards of his truck.

“Lunch!” he demanded.

Carrie slugged him in the gut. He just laughed.

“Got ya in your bread basket,” she told him.

This was after Linnea found him asleep on the tractor in the garage.

“I was just taking a break and was leaning back,” he explained. “Guess I fell asleep.”

That kid could sleep any where, any time.

After school, Puck was in a munchy mood as usual. After he threw back a couple of this and a few of that, Linnea offered more industrial-sized snacks.

“If I drive you up to Dairy Queen, you can go in and order a box of Starkiss Pops, if you want,” she told him.

Puck eagerly accepted the challenge.

When they drove back about fifteen minutes later, Linnea set the box of cherry pops on the table with a bit of a skeptical scowl.

“Puck got jipped,” she said. “The kid in there only gave him back 75 cents in change. I gave Puck ten dollars when he went in there.”

“Maybe you should go back and ask about it.”

Linnea looked slyly off into the distance. “Did that kid have his hair slicked over to the side, Puck?”

“Yes, he did!”

“And was he wearing a black shirt?”

“I think so…”

“Don’t worry. I know who that kid is. I’ll get him in trouble for this.”

Never jip the nephew of Linnea-Irish Snicketts.