47 : I Don't Think We Ever Met

Thunder growled out in the west. It wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning and we had some weather moving in. Then a little heavy rain. Never mind that I was on a phone call; Puck had to inform me of this monumental event.

“MOOOOM!” he bellowed from across the house. “THUNDER! MOOOOM!”

Because it’s always loud around here – that’s just the way it is – I’m pretty used to my ears splitting a good 50% of the day. However, there are times that it even catches up to me.

“Boys… Seriously. Can’t I ever have just two short minutes of quiet? Just two?”

“What is quiet?” Puck grinned wickedly. “I don’t think we ever met.”

Heavy rain again after lunch. That, and no more summer heat, meant no garden hose for the boys. Instead, Puck spread the fuzzy Costco eggplant blanket across my bed and dumped his entire Lego collection across it. This kept them occupied, the two of my boys, for hours.

About the time the sun came out and Puck got busy on his “Apple Fire” as he calls it (Amazon Fire), Yali re-found the Cheetos bag. There weren’t many left, so I allowed him to finish them off. The little guy just stood there, stuffing them down, rocking back and forth on two chubby brown legs in a little Cheetos dance. Fingers completely orange.

It was about time to make dinner again. Puck’s eyes grew big as he heard me describe the menu.

“Mom, we’re having fish?”

“You have to get used to it one day, son. Fish is good for you.”

“Yeah, well… I’m starting to like it, but… I’m still under cover.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’m still a little nauseous about it.”

So much for all that Viking blood in him. No coast living for this kid. And while I got that fish prepared for the oven, both boys decided to run around the house… in their underwear.

“We’re CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS!” Puck declared to me, blanket tied around his neck like a cape.

Yali then also asked me for a blanket-cape. It’s just been one of those weeks.