Rich Rewards

This morning before I was even fully awake, El Oso tried to convince me that he had a dream in the night.

“Matt Holliday and I were ballroom dancing together. Tango.”

Didn’t buy it. Try to get that picture out of your head.

Puck’s “long-awaited” prize was just around the corner at the Big House. Two crates of dirty bunny hay lugged out to the back yard; the room was scoured for the fourth time, and the contract was complete. For all his hard work Puck was now the proud owner of a 195-piece Lego camper van. About an hour and a half later, he had built the whole thing himself on the living room floor. Very proud young chap.

Later, I heard him telling the brother and sister from down the street about the job. Big time stuff.

“Today was the last day I had to clean the bunny room, and it was so gross.”

During the afternoon, Puck continued several hours of play down the street and back up the street. He and a buddy were waiting patiently for Francis to return from work to bring out the go-cart.

“I have my heart set on it,” he told me. Then, thinking maybe he sounded a little too dramatic, changed his statement. “I mean I have my mind set on it.”

When Francis finally did drive up, he went directly to the kitchen hunting grub.

“Collette…? My dear sister?”

Two grilled cheese later – I managed to make them before he was completely asleep sprawled on the couch – and then go-carts.

Puck was just asleep for the night. Francis drove over from work to drive El Oso’s truck a few laps around the block in preparation for testing his own model on Friday.

“There’s a lot of police in your neighborhood,” was about the first thing he told me.

This has happened before a few times. But because I’ve never heard sirens or shots fired, I have to assume it’s not too bad out there.

Some time later I switched on another late game from San Diego. The sacrifices I make to watch these kids play a ten year-old game.