Little Times

“Hi, Calvin!”

Brother and sister waiting at the door in the shallow pink twilight of another mild December evening. While Puck gathered his shoes and coat, the young girl watched me behind her glasses …

“I feel like I know you.”

I didn’t get to hear why though, because Puck was off with them like a shot, coat flying in the wind that was the effect of his running. After he showed off his “poison” bottle, of course, which seemed to sufficiently impress his pals.

It was a quiet half hour by the Christmas tree, therefore, for myself and Crackers. And a jolly time for my boy.

Crackers prowled the kitchen table greenery during dinner, staring grumpily at us from over the lid of my laptop.

After some readings from Henry Huggins, Puck watched the little happy face icon on my computer, indicating Bær’s travels home.

“If he got into an accident would it become a sad face?” he wanted to know.

Bær walked through the front door to help Puck build a small bonfire on the patio for marshmallows. Albeit tiny marshmallows, because I had 2/3rds of a bag leftover from making the strawberry pretzel salad last week. I love the smell of woodsmoke during this season.

They shared jokes while they watched the fire crackle …

“How many apples grow on a tree?”

“Twenty?”

“All of them.”

“Oh … next!”

“I know someone who sounds like an owl.”

“Who? … Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Guess what one plus one equals? Three! Get it?”

Puck’s Blog: Day #10

I played with my model airplane and then I pulled off some plastic off the broom and then I played with my cat, Crackers. I don’t want to lie so I’ll go play with Crackers since I wrote about it in my blog.