Relics of a Boy

“I just ate one of your whole chocolate bars, Mom. BLECK.”

The always determined young person that is my son walked back out of my room. I think it was six o’clock in the morning. This was all very promising.

I could hear the boys breakfasting together. They needed some “boy time”, and it gave me an excuse not to jump out of bed too fast. Puck found me again anyway…

“Mom! Dad and I tried one of Crackers’ treats! It was disgusting. Bleck. Just… disgusting. I always wondered how Crackers could resist them.”

At breakfast, Puck was always more ideas. He had tree house plans to draw up before Bær left for work. A sheet of printer paper and a pen, dipping his eyes low under the kitchen window shade to examine the branches of the tree in the backyard.

As I washed up the dishes, Puck informed me of a concern…

“Mom? There is a spider egg under the table.”

He stabbed the mostly empty case with a thumbtack and ran to the front door…

“I threw the thumbtack out there too, Mom.”

“Honey, you can’t throw thumbtacks into the yard.”

Puck contemplated this…

“It will be ok, Mom. It will probably be whisked away by wind by then… snowed on by snow, beat up by dogs… rained on by rain.”

A cold gray day had become warmer, only sun, and Puck and I ran a few errands before Puck joined his friends for half an hour of make-believe real-life Minecraft outdoors, right before dark sank in.

We settled onto the couch for bedtime readings. Puck had something small between his fingers.

“This is so beautiful.”

“Oh yeah?” I assumed it was a little Lego.

“Too bad I can’t keep it.”

“Wait, what?”

“It looks like blood dripping down underneath the yellow.”

I quickly came to understand that this “Lego” was no Lego, and came from somewhere within the region of his nostril.

“It’s beautiful, like stained glass. Can I keep it?”

“No, son.”

“Could we take a picture of it then?”