Puck's Library

Puck brought back a ton of old books from the Big House Sunday afternoon with the intent of starting a library. This morning, he pulled out a volume about Patrick Henry and held it centimeters from my eyes. That boy must think I’m blind.

“Do you know who Patrick Henry was?” I asked.

“Yes. He’s the guy who said, ‘I love justice! I’ll die for justice!’ And then he hanged.”

Well… sort of…

About an hour later while I made phone calls to schedule Yali’s speech therapy and ENT appointments, I could hear the boys in the other room, preparing to build the library.

“Come on, Yali! Those books can’t carry themselves!”

Turns out I had to leave the boys with Ansel for about two hours that morning. When I came back, Puck had plowed through an entire jumbo box of blueberries. When I asked if he had been given permission to obliterate the blueberries, he replied that he was unsure. Typical.

It was about three o’clock in the afternoon. Both boys sat at the kitchen table back home, snacking. As always. Puck was siphoning Honey Nut Cheerios through – what appeared to be – an empty industrial cellophane tube from the school recycling bin.

When they transferred themselves to the living room to continue working on the library, Puck had a temporary change of mind regarding his business partner. “Yali, go bother Mama. I can’t deal with this.”

And later, “No, Yali, this library is under construction. Out. Out of here.”

And still later, “No! Loud! Sounds! This is a library! … Mom, would you like to read in my library?”

“I would love to read in your library.”

Puck immediately adopted a refined tone to his voice as he escorted me to a comfortable seat and began to present my reading options. I settled on the “C” Encyclopedia, because “N” was currently unavailable. Then as Puck began cutting up a stack of bookmarks, Yali decided to disturb the peace of the library.

“Okay, buster, you’re out of here!” Puck commanded, irritated.

Yali began to wail.

“Yali! Yali!” Puck began to coax. “Do you repent, Yali? Do you repent?”

Yali scrubbed one fist over his chest in apology.

“Okay, Yali! Go play with your juguetes! Juguetes!” (Toys.)

I just stayed out of it. I left a bookmark at p. 16 between “cake urchin” and “calabash” and temporarily left the library. I had a lasagna to build.