Mom's Birthday

Mom was 49 on that cold morning in November.
Puck hurried into the house with a bouquet of flowers for his grandma, thrusting it toward her in glee.
“Oh, thank you, precious!” Mom said, giving the chubby boy a hug.
Silky red roses, orange, yellow, and purple mums, stark green leaves.
It wasn’t long before Puck was helping Linnea make chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for Thanksgiving.
“Crunchy peanut sticks is what they’re called” said Mom.
She put peanuts in a sealed plastic bag and showed Puck how to smash them with an ice cream scoop.
It didn’t take long for Puck to have a smear of semi-sweet chocolate on his top lip as Linnea offered him an, oddly unwanted, sample.
“Honey, you look like Hitler,” Collette told the chubby, coming over with a washcloth.
Later, Linnea and Puck played with Snuggles in Puck’s play-pen while the radio crackled the tune of The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane from the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Collette had gone downstairs to inspect Francis’ job of cleaning up the basement for the festivities the following afternoon.
“Francis,” she said, pointing to a pile of tiny dental rubber bands on the floor, “aren’t those supposed to be in your mouth?”
“Oh well,” said Francis with a grin, “The carpet needs to stretch out too.”
After lunch, it was time for the floor show. While Puck drank his milk and cuddled a soft lion on the couch, Linnea taught him how to do the can-can, and talked to Collette about learning how to play the steel drum.
“But if I learn how to play it,” she said, “people will just think I’m copying Rose. Because I didn’t know she wanted to learn how to play it too.”
Collette assured her that it was alright, just as she told Puck it was time for a nap. The little guy began to pout a cry when he heard the word. Lately, there were days he preferred to stay up with his Lila instead of going back down in his playpen for two hours.
“Now, now” Collette told him. “naps are good things. Remember, we talked about this?”
Meanwhile, Rose, who had left earlier in the morning, had her first professional salon appointment to have her hair trimmed and colored. As Collette watched her drive away in the little red Civic, she couldn’t help but think about how grown-up Rose had become in the last years.
When she returned, she looked great — chocolate brown hair with highlights, which she had never had done before. It made her look older.
When Dad returned early from work, he escorted Mom, Joe, and Linnea to dinner at El Maguey (Rose was at the Tecumseh’s, and Francis at Creole’s), to come home in time for Carrie’s return from Texas.
That night, OLeif made tortillas and tried to cure himself of a cough with hot water and apple cider vinegar while Collette watched President Bush pardon the two turkeys, Pumpkin and Pecan, from the Thanksgiving table.

“I have assured these turkeys they will not be trotting to their finish.”
– President Bush (National Thanksgiving
Turkey Pardon)