Friday Nights
It was Gloria’s birthday on another cold November morning. Some sun, some definite chill, and a lot of work for me at the kitchen table where Crackers constantly tried to wiggle her way into my lap, leaving batches of gray fur on my black leggings, and disrupt my typing.
Puck marched out of the classroom with a pretty determined look on his face, like he was expecting to be in trouble.
“Yellow!” he told me emphatically, as he walked to the gym.
Yellow, as I now well know, equals “Caution”.
“So … what did you do this time?” I asked him as we walked down a quiet hallway.
“I laughed really loud when one of the kids yelled, ‘Toilet!’ during the prayer.”
That would do it.
Mom and Carrie-Bri had a surprise waiting for Puck at the Big House: a two-layered bright orange winter coat, accompanied by two pairs of knit gloves in orange and gray. Huge hit. Puck hardly wanted to take it off throughout the afternoon and evening.
Plans were made for Puck to spend the night as he ran off to play with his buddy down the street.
As darkness fell around 5:30, Mom and Dad had already evacuated the premises – after Dad forked over about six pizzas (including pretzel crust cheese sauce pizza) to keep the masses happy – just in time before the passel of young people arrived for the evening, piled in Rose’s Audi: Joe, Jaya, Thunderbird, Annamaria, and Rose. With sacks of Dairy Queen. Then Francis walked in with Culver’s. Linnea-Irish left with a friend for a fall formal in her shiny gold dress – “Ug…” she moaned. “I hate dances.” – and missed the marvelousness of another bad-film night.
Carrie-Bri prepared hot cocoa, hot cider, Halloween leftovers, and cranked up another classic made-for-TV-movie: “Atomic Twister”.
We Snicketts have a knack for discovering terrible B-movies which we re-watch and re-watch throughout the years. This would be a new inclusion, and a welcome one.
This was followed with stupid Youtube clips over the television, which left Joe and Thunderbird doubled over with laughing, reduced to tears.