Exciting Quiet Times
It was now less than three weeks till the wedding. With Joe moved in to his Creve Coeur apartment just down the road from Rose, things were moving fast.
Puck and I wrapped up things at the Silverspoon’s that morning after waving El Oso off to work. Some light laundry and dishes while Puck refilled the water bowl for Sebastian who had been out in the yard with him:
“He was running, Mom! He was bounding!”
For an old dog with hip issues, this was enough to be impressive. He slugged through his water bowl. Puck was duly impressed with the length of Sebastian’s drinking process:
“I can’t believe that! He has been drinking for so long! That’s a long record! Congratulations, Sebastian!”
Considering that this was about the most exciting thing that happened all morning, the afternoon only slightly topped it.
Crackers met us, pawing wildly at the dish washer, windows, the painting on the piano. Stir-crazy, and obviously missing us. Just until her food bowl was filled again.
So, Old Navy. Puck needed flip-flops. Yes, a pair of sapphire blue – his choice – $3.94 flip-flops was our most exhilarating event of the entire afternoon. Although for Puck, adding pieces of busted street and grocery store floor debris to a tiny ziploc – which he also found on the floor – was probably at least, if not more, interesting.
“Bud, that’s part of a taillight. It’s pretty sharp. You should just leave it.”
“It’s okay, Mom. It’s my favorite color. Alright? Alright?”
“That’s an old CD cover, Puck. Leave it.”
“I’m not going to collect junk-junk, Mom. Just junk, you know? You know, Mom?”
Sort of. His Ziploc was full by the time we left with three sacks of groceries for an anticipated relatively quiet four and a half days ahead.
Crackers, crazy cat that she had been all day, curled up next to me on the couch in a blue evening while El Oso plowed through a fat sandwich, blue corn chips (thank you, Gloria), and guacamole. Puck was in bed for the night, yelling out confessions to me every thirty seconds while Carrie and I texted back and forth about the game and life catch-up.
Puck’s Weekly What-do-You-Want-to-be-When-You-Grow-Up Status:
“A scientist.”
I think we’ve found a groove.