Let's Find Something Awesome
The alarm came too early this morning.
“I made my own breakfast!” Puck announced from the doorway.
I’d say “poor kid”, but it’s sort of one of his dreams. After congratulating him and dragging myself into the reality of a new day, I noticed the almost-full cereal bowl of milk sitting on the floor. Seems breakfast had been completed and Crackers was enjoying the leftovers.
“She’s conquering her milk!” Puck announced proudly.
On today’s list of adventures:
1. Mix up a box of lime Jell-O.
2. Dig for artifacts in the back yard.
It had been awhile, but I was getting that cold weather rash again, this time on my elbows. I worked in some Norwegian hand cream and Puck asked me questions…
“What is a him?”
“You mean a song or a boy?”
“No…”
“What do you mean then?”
“Someone who… can’t get married.”
“Oh, you mean a nun?”
“Yeah.”
He was making an obscure reference to a 1960’s film we had watched awhile back, actually. I briefly explained the role of the nun in Catholicism, and that we didn’t have any nuns in the Presbyterian church. This always disappointed me some when I was younger. [Still does a little, if I’m honest.]
This same thought-provoking chap landed himself in the corner for nearly half at hour by middle morning. He needed time to contemplate sins while I watched from the couch and orchestrated a little soul-soothing Gregorian-based-wintry-Scandinavian-Medieval chant on Spotify to perhaps inspire more heavenly thoughts.
We got back down to business and made that Jell-O before eleven o’clock. Puck eagerly took up the spoon to stir until…
“Oh, Mom! I can’t stand that smell!”
“It’s lime buddy. It’s just fruit.”
It didn’t fly.
He swayed and jived out at lunch, stuffing down the green peppers, banana, and a fat peanut butter and special blueberry preserves sandwich, with further insights…
“Mom. I realized today that I can tell how long I will live by watching you and Dad.”
Puck had been waiting for a long time to dig this hole.
I’ll confess I’m always a little itchy to grab a spade and just go at it. Especially with that Civil War battle across the tracks a little further north. And assuming this area was indeed once populated by the Illini tribe, you never knew what was possible. Of course I get this absurd idea of…
…us digging up some human bones, calling in the police to investigate, secretly hoping it’s not a crime scene so I don’t get threatening letters from murderers on the run in Venezuela for digging up evidence, rolls of yellow crime scene tape fluttering in the wind, turns out to be an ancient graveyard, officers standing around in the cold, I offer tea: English or fruit because I don’t know how to make coffee, frantic calls from museums and archaeologists begging for first dibs, more threatening letters also from museums and archaeologists who forcefully buy out the entire neighborhood for multi-millions of dollars but the residents are still ticked at me for finding the bones in the first place, an entire new civilization discovered of unknown tribes immigrated over from the Middle East around 1,000 BC specializing in intricate crafts of silver and rubies, and…
Snap out of it, Collette.
Life isn’t fiction.
Instead, I pieced together Puck’s archaeology box with brushes [unused toothbrush], trowels [paint can openers], and mini magnifying glass. Add in a couple of grocery bags to sit on. And we were set.
Let the dirt fly.
And hope for less Bud caps and broken glass. Sometimes I wonder about the former residents of this house…
Jackpot.
Maybe it wasn’t the lost sister city of Ancient Rome. Or even an arrowhead. But for Puck it was enough. About two inches into top soil – junior high girl’s almost-spoon ring circa 2002, stamped with tribal motifs.
I’ll take it.
“I’m going to wear this forever!” Puck declared after we toothbrush scrubbed this unexpected treasure in the bathroom sink.
As we wrapped up another grand old day of fun with a stack of books – castles, Colonial America, the Ten Plagues, etc., Puck had additional thoughts. He paused the marker over his illustration of a “floating tree”…
“Onion says that the universe eats stuff.”
Oh boy…
And just a few more things while “trying” to fall asleep…
“How did Larry Boy get his name?”
“Uhm…”
“Are scientists still trying to figure that out?”
“I guess… they are…”