November 4

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Munch, munch, munch… Munch, munch, munch…

Collette opened her eyes.

“What are you eating, baby?”

He handed her the package. Apparently Collette had left the Milka chocolate bar in reach of three year-old hands.

Puck had a surprise waiting for him before breakfast.

“Daddy, did you get a baby house?!”

“I did,” OLeif mumbled, tiredly. “We’re going to bake it.”

“We’re going to bake it?!”

OLeif had picked up a pack of modeling clay on the way home the previous night, and had made a tiny dark red house with black roof. And it was waiting on the kitchen counter for him. 275 degrees and fifteen minutes later, Puck had his baby house. And he would not part with it.

“Isn’t this house beautiful?” he said in delight. “I would thank Daddy for it. Thank you, Jesus, for having Daddy come home from work with my baby house. Namen.”

Meanwhile, Mom and the kids arrived shortly after 8:30. Francis had an egg McMuffin in hand, partially eaten. He shaved off the tainted part with a knife.

“I’m very particular about people eating out of my food,” he said seriously.

A long morning of school, and then Luke and Leia arrived, prompt as always.

The sky was perfect that day when they walked. Endless canopies of so many colors, the charcoal grays fluffed with white, with deep blue fabergéd between them, and the sun upon occasion.

When they returned, Puck and Luke rolled through the leaves together.

Back inside, Puck pressed Collette’s be-socked feet together.

“They’re praying,” he said seriously.

And later…

“Mama? Is Doctor Who in Heaven with his Tardis?”

Before dinner, Puck watched Mr. Rogers learn how to make a cheese sandwich at a local restaurant, and then visit the giant pandas at the zoo.

Meanwhile, Collette had found a nice 1914 copy of Rochester and the Mayo Clinic in her antique book cabinet, which had been written by her great-great, or great-great-great grandfather while cottaging at Big Stone Lake.

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