Opening Easter
Leaving QT for a last-minute fuel-up Easter morning – Incan sun god music pan-piping on the radio – Puck had one question for us as he flipped through a library book on rain forests.
“Is a con artist a guy who draws fake pictures? It’s a guy who tries to make dollar bills, right?”
Brunch at church ended up being a lot of chocolate-popping prevention as Puck and his buddies eyed the table displays of purple and yellow pansies clustered with chocolate eggs in a variety of tempting presentations. I can’t say that I also didn’t participate. Rose wandered in with two armloads of fat muffins right before the spread of quiche, breakfast casserole, bacon, fruit salad, and donuts was served.
Before the service, Puck watched – a little mesmerized – as Carrie-Bri folded him a paper airplane or two. Later, he told me seriously, “Sun makes good paper airplanes because she’s an airplane driver.”
Florissant.
Puck, being the only grandchild available these past eight years, didn’t have too much trouble amusing himself. Climbing the little tree in the corner of the back yard, tossing a mashed plastic cup back and forth with Oxbear, examining the rock pile for anything interesting…
“Look, Mom! This rock looks like a gun! Pew! Pew! Pew-pew!”
It was chilly though, some wind. Oxbear and I walked him down to the school yard to run around before dinner.
The Combs home was ready for a large party of hungry Easter eaters. Linus had the grill prepared for his special olive-oil-brushed corn cobs wrapped in foil. Hot potato casserole, honey ham (this time, Puck was used to the honey), deviled eggs, and Hawaiian sweet rolls.
Opening Night – 7:05 – Wrigley Field.
With about half the family ringed up in the living room in front of a moderately sized television set (a treat for myself), there was plenty of heckling against a city well known for harassing St. Louis’ finest.
Forty-five minutes later, the Joy Bus drove our batch of eleven back west.
As Puck immediately drifted off to sleep about nine o’clock, wrapped up in bundles of Angry Birds comforter, I managed to catch the last of the game between shoddy internet streaming and my usual At-Bat figurines to patch together the final set of plays and shut-out victory. I guess that’s how you answer back to a team who claims they’ll win the NL Central.