Inching
Crackers threw her fuzzy body across the kitchen linoleum that morning. Puck watched her for a few moments before adding some commentary in what had clearly become a revelation for him.
“Look at her! She doesn’t have to do anything! Look at her! All she has to do is lay around and get attention. That’s all she does every day! That’s all she does.”
Puck and I spent our entire morning on the road back and forth to the Secretary of State. We found a spot in the parking garage across the street. Puck begged to park 14 floors up on the very top. Despite my vertigo, I obliged, and let him look over the edge for about one and a half seconds before escorting us to the elevator.
We walked into the old post office building, Puck lugging three five-pound Calvin & Hobbes books for the wait, which turned out to be under thirty minutes.
“Is this for a new adoption?” the lady asked me behind the counter as she handed me four freshly gold-sealed apostilled documents.
“No … same one.”
She looked at me almost skeptically, as if it wasn’t possible. “’Cause we’ve had you in the system since 2010.”
“I know … it’s taken awhile.”
Between more phone calls to, and messages left with the San Francisco consulate – nothing – we spent our afternoon continuing to sort and organize the boys’ room. Puck went through every piece himself, often making the decision to part with a valued object as necessary. Sometimes he just couldn’t bring himself to make the cut.
“Mom, this brings back memories. … This really brings back memories, Mom.”
We added a stack of his old books to Yali’s shelf.
“I think he’s really going to like Curious George, Mom. Welcome to the United States bud-day!”
As soon as Oxbear drove up, I hit the road to join the girls at T.J. Max, Carrie-Bri arriving from class, Rose from work. I had to throw some things together before we flew south, including a set of dark orange sheets for Yali’s bed. I knew Puck would want to trade his red for Yali’s orange when he saw them the next morning.
We closed out the evening with Culver’s mixers – courtesy Mom and Dad – and the game at the Big House.