One Hundred Twenty-Four
Puck was chilling next to The Bear in bed, discussing his morning plan…
“Dad, I didn’t want to bodder [bother] you and Mom. So I sat on the bunk and played with Legos until the clock changed to a seven.”
About an hour later, he was sitting on the couch with Jacob’s laptop, eagerly constructing stone temples on mythical tropical islands in some place far from nowhere, singing little mad-up ditties to himself…
“There’s lava on every side… Hum hum hum hum… It’s so co-ooool…”
“Puck! Breakfast!”
“Yay! Nothing like milk and toast to start out the day.”
We had to hit the store while The Bear studied…
“Get me something good to eat,” he advised Puck.
“Ok! And me, too!”
Puck ran out to meet me in the living room…
“Mom, Dad says get him something good to eat. And me too. Well… that was just an expression. But I want something good to eat too, with Dad.”
It came in the form of fried chicken. There were at least four families with three or more boys at the store that morning. The lights were flickering in and out for some reason. Found rain forest body wash and dry erase markers with chisel tips, new light bulbs, envelopes, cumin, etc.
Puck blistered up to the house to share the good news about chicken with his dad. They were feasting immediately, Puck digging out the bones.
“I want to keep them.”
“Well when you’re an archaeologist you can keep them.”
“Ok… Uh… I have to go to the bathroom now, Dad. And when I wash my hands I’m going to wash this bone too ok I’ll be right back.”
“No you don’t.”
Puck lifted the next chicken wing into his mouth, right in there…
“Puck. You can’t eat the chicken that way. There’s bones in there.”
“Thanks. For telling me.”
He splintered into the chicken. Crust flying. And looked over at me…
“Bones these days…”
We hit the road. The Bear and Puck walked out of the library with a free Superman comic book and an orange Tootsie pop.
“Stay right here and listen, just listen,” said Theodore.
We had just arrived in the Silverspoon kitchen. Theodore walked into the garage.
V-ROOM.
“Wait a second…” said The Bear, walking out the door to inspect.
An updated Audi with a V-8.
“Takes me right back to high school,” Gloria laughed.
She was taking The Bear suit shopping. Well, she and Theodore were taking The Bear and Izzy suit shopping. Better them than me. It’s not that I don’t want to help, but I know nothing of formalwear. Having worked at Stallone’s for two years, The Bear knows more than I do about all that sort of thing.
So Puck and I took it easy together. I had switched on the game of course, caught Allen Craig’s first homer of the year before they fell behind again. The Bear caught a whiff of the score…
“Oh no! My night is ruined!”
He knows me too well.
So they brought back their suits somewhere around the time Puck polished off half a medium serving bowl of strawberries. He got chased around some by Izzy. Pictures were taken. More pizza. Chips, guacamole, and salsa. The Cards won – fortunately for everyone involved. And Theodore took the boys to see Iron Man 3 after Puck went down back home.