Good Job, Bacuums!

Another one — rustling green trees under morning storm clouds. The rain had fallen in the night, lulling Collette to sleep. And the front lawn had rapidly grown as a result of the past week of water shed.
Collette and Puck spent their morning, listening to Asian, Irish, and Roman music inside around the lamp glow, watching the green and dark world outside the open windows.
Puck had started setting himself in the corner whenever he thought that he was being bad.
“Naughty,” he said seriously, as he took his seat.
He was also very intent on his vacuums having meals with him. He would set the vacuums on the floor next to his high chair and request that they have their sippies.
“Bacuum, hungry!” he would say.
Then they read “The Color Kittens” four times over, in a Scottish accent, because Puck seemed to like it. This was followed with a thorough cleaning of the house by vacuums, for both Puck and Collette.
Puck was learning how to cheer. Every time he moved his tiny vacuum or his matchbox cars to the other side of the coffee table, he would clap his hands wildly together.
“Good job, bacuum!” he cried out.
There was much enthusiastic applause and laughter.
Word on the street was that Egypt was slaughtering all 300,000 pigs in their entire country. Perhaps very much unnecessary. Poor pigs.
As the afternoon and rain wore on, Puck gave both of his vacuums their sippies and put them to bed in the office.
“Nigh-night, bacuums!” he said loudly to them.
Time for another night of comedy. Rose walked over from work in the rain. And Joe later arrived with a case of Jones cream sodas and a box of nutty bars. Then they talked with Carrie on Videochat until their shows began.