Puck Says
“EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!!!! When you’re part of a teeeeam. EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!!!! When you’re part of a dreeeeam.” I don’t know if those are the exact lyrics from the Lego movie, maybe because I don’t feel like searching the internet and leaving that request on the timeline of my browser. But all the same, Puck has been singing these words – mostly to himself – for the past couple of weeks whenever the occasion suits.
Watery sun behind gray on the way to church. Colder and looking for a colder week. Puck sat in the back seat with a spread of little quilt squares snipped by my great-grandmother in another era, a useless piece of cloth I stitched together on the long drive to Grand Teton National Park when I was sixteen. He read it like a book, pointing out all the colors and patterns he liked best. “I like this one, too,” he pointed to an orange square with little black dots, like a mis-colored strawberry. “It looks like Viking underwear.” “Viking underwear…?” “You know that pizza pizza guy?” Caesar in a toga; close enough.
During week six of dating the book of Revelation in Sunday School, geese nibbled through grass out the windows. Puck had pocketed a blueberry Tootsie pop in the pocket of his new “business shirt,” remembering not to eat it during class.
The boys left to meet Ricky at the movies: Legos again. Everyone else was at dance class, and Francis at a swim meet, just to watch. So it was just us four girls around at the Big House, Rose joining Carrie and me in the living room with a bowl of chocolatey strawberry Kellogg’s, for the early part of the afternoon. After Mom napped, she baked a cake for the evening: Closing Ceremonies being the reason. The Snicketts Family rarely requires significant life events for an excuse to celebrate. Any old thing will do. Then Carrie finished Rose’s makeover and nails on the couch, while we five Snicketts women consulted and quickly booked our Spring-Training-and-beaches trip in three weeks. This one was about as spontaneous as Iceland five years ago.
It was cold out now, blue, glowing rose ripples out west. Irish walked out the door to youth group after Dad, Mom, Carrie, and Rose all protested the style of her jeans, and the various placement of its holes. High School Junior and post-college opinions on fashion rarely agree. El Oso and Puck lit a bonfire while Dad trucked back the pizzas, Cecil Whittaker’s style. Just as it got dark, Joe and Jaya drove up with three boxes of ribbon-tied wedding invitations and fresh chicken eggs. We walked back out the door just as the stuffing commenced. I guess they get married in three months; sometimes the full processing of these life events comes well after the fact. I’m expecting it will sink in some time within the next six to eight years.