November 17
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
That morning, Puck had been reading Calvin & Hobbes in bed again. He had also, apparently, been busy with other things…
“Our son is an artist,” Collette told OLeif, after Puck had been installed in the kitchen with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.
“What did he do?” asked OLeif.
“Go check out his mattress.”
A moment later, they observed the rather elaborate pattern of orange highlighter spread over the plastic of Puck’s mattress.
“He’s pretty good,” said OLeif. “Check out those shapes.”
And later…
“So how long did it take you to draw this?” OLeif asked Puck.
“So long,” the little artist with an orange soul patch replied, more aware of his accomplishment than of his defacement of personal property.
He and OLeif had a talk, something to the effect of his mattress, in fact, not being a writing tablet…
Before leaving that morning, Puck was still thinking about his Christmas wish list.
“Could I have a stuffed train?” he asked.
“We could add it to your list,” Collette replied.
Then he gave her a hug, and said, “Does Christmas mean opening all the presents?”
And there was more explaining to be done…
And still later…
“It’s dark still, Daddy. Does darkness means Christmas?”
Over at the house…
Puck was wondering if he was going to visit Grandpa Snicketts again..
“Am I gonna visit your… your… your… grandpa’s daddy?” he asked Dad. “Am I gonna visit your… your guy? Am I gonna visit your… your daddy?”
Not long later…
Dad was out for a six-mile run.
And Linnea was looking up the Apennines in Italy, and then had her hair braided around her head again.
And randomly, Collette remembered her old psychology class from 2002, whose professor had been an Argentine, and the university’s soccer coach. He had been talking about memory. Then he kicked his desk.
“Take that as an example,” he said. “None of you will remember me kicking my desk years from now…”
That was one of the only things that Collette had remembered, aside from the Irish footballer who had caused an uproar of laughter when he told them that, back in school, when in trouble, they would receive as punishment, a ‘slap on the arse’. And then the small African girl who had to wear a stinky bone around her neck as discipline…
At the lunch hour…
Gingerbread cookies.
“I could eat all of these without even thinking about it,” said Dad.
Collette concurred.
Then Francis left to meet Creole at the Daniel Boone Bridge.
And Puck watched for the ‘PBS’ man in his brown truck.
Sometime in the afternoon…
Dad and Mom took Puck to visit Grandpa and Grandma.
Carrie carefully painted Collette’s hand with henna while Collette worked Linnea and Joe through their coursework.
Joe continued on his art notebook for class, involving crayons, paint, photographs, and tape-ripped Xerox symbols.
Rose continued to refurbish the cabinet in the garage while listening to podcasts.
And Francis placed a cell phone call from the shower, requesting that a towel be tossed down to him.
Meanwhile, Collette had a gift ready for Monday’s baby girl: two books: The Sweet Touch and Flotsam, and a panda face bento box, ready to ship down to Louisiana.
That night, back to church, where now the sun had set before the program had even started.
And it ended with a hurricane of a temper tantrum. Someone, apparently, had no intention of singing that night.
Then home again for more John MacArthur and a relaxing hiatus from nearly all writing projects.
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