Puck's Picks
“You look like an orphan,” Dad told Linnea-Irish when she walked over behind that particular morning’s family ‘pew’.
Linnea wrinkled her nose. Apparently Dad didn’t approve of sock hats at church, although he later insisted that the “orphan” label was in reference to the holes in her stockings that she hadn’t noticed until it was too late. As Mom always says, you win some, you lose some.
It was corned beef and cabbage day back at the Big House, about two weeks delayed due to our excursion in Florida. But I guess it wasn’t enough to make Puck feel like missing the ice cream truck when he heard its alluring tunes ramble up the street.
“PLEASE!!”
“No, Puck. You’ve already had Easter candy. You don’t need ice cream.”
“Puck,” Dad added, “the problem is, I don’t want to set a precedence. I don’t want them starting to come here all the time.”
A very Snicketts-esque response. Hiding from the general public. Anyway, I guess Puck was a little distracted after that by his uncles cracking gun powder-based party poppers – showers of spaghetti confetti – around the living room.
“Where did you get those, Francis?”
“I don’t know. I just found them.”
I don’t think any of us bothered to ask where. Sometimes it’s just best not to ask.
Puck spent the last half hour of his evening soaking things in the bathroom sink, including a little plastic Chinese take-out style gift box from the complimentary candle last night. I have to hand it to him, he can amuse himself for hours with – for lack of better words – “junk”. And he loves it.
“MOM! Come look at this! It’s a fountain! This is the ultimate fountain!”
Like walking into a PBS documentary: Puck and his gadgets, sink water streaming out of the corners of the transparent box, down his arms like a garden statue, back into the sink and, of course, all over the floor.
“Are you ready to read now, Puck?”
“Just read to me from the living room, Mom.”
“You can’t see the pictures though.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I can still hear.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work, bud.”
“Mom, sometimes you have to learn that your child has to be away. Mom! Come look at this one! I can fold paper in the water!”
Later I drained the sink, full of soggy batches of paper. Inventive spirit.