More Paint, More Water

“Mom! Mom! If I wash your car, can you pay me a dollar? Papa paid me even more when I washed his truck!”

I looked out the front door. It was around one o’clock in the afternoon. I had finished another long morning of painting. Then I finally released the boys to wind and sunshine because there’s only so much Netflix and matchbox cars they can take. I looked at the Fit; it probably could use a good washing.

“Alright, bud. I can pay you a dollar if you wash it good.”

His bright hazel eyes lit up. “OKAY! YALI! YALI! LET’S WASH MOM’S CAR!”

Sometime later, Puck burst his head through the front door again. “PAY UP!” he grinned.

The door slammed shut, but then reopened.

“Extra charge for the top of the car!” he added.

As the afternoon dwindled, I joined the boys for a little sun. The joy of painting could only last so long. Both my boys lounged on their backs on the driveway, arms resting over their eyes. Drunk on hose water and sunshine.

Awhile later they came back inside for piles of raspberries and sweet peppers. That’s mostly Puck though. Yali likes berries okay, but he’s only curious about the peppers. That’s his extent of vegetable love.

It was almost dinnertime. The traffic cone orange walls of the boys’ room were now finally completely covered in a boring shade of off-white, just like the lemon yellow living room, pumpkin orange kitchen, and Caribbean blue bathroom. Only the lime green office and tomato soup bedroom still remained.

I kept one eye open for brown recluse sightings the whole day. The crumpled body of my second “kill” of the month still lay in one corner of the boys’ room. A warning to all other spiders.

While I got the stove going for dinner, Yali walked into the kitchen carrying the scale. The scale Puck loves to weigh himself on every few days to see if he’s going to grow bigger than his dad. Wouldn’t put it past him. Yali carefully set the scale on the linoleum and stepped on it.

“AH! AH!” he screeched, pointing at the digital numbers, wanting me to read them.

“26.4 pounds, Yali. That’s good! You’re growing!”

He gave me a “thumbs up”, then proceeded to do the same thing he does to me just about every time he leaves the room. “Bye, Mom!” Followed by a wave, “I love you” in sign language, a tiger growl, “hang loose”, and usually one more wave.