He Might be Dead

“Mom?”

The little Colombian voice from the top of the stairs suggested I stop taking my much-needed late afternoon dark chocolate raspberry Magnum bar break and see what was what.

“Yes, Yali?”

“I need you to come to Puck. He might be dead.”

By now, I’ve learned that “might be dead” means someone needs a band-aid. Tops. Today, my lack of concern once again paid off. The only thing that was “dead” was the curbside trash can, which Yali had rolled over on its side, Puck standing on its top looking very much like a guilty conquistador.