Short Day

It was a late start at school that morning after a long night downtown at the ballgame, so we had a little time to hang around the breakfast counter before hitting the road. Yali helped sort silverware, sitting on a stool humming to himself.

We didn’t stay inside very long after carpool later that afternoon. Too many kids, too much noise. It usually starts off with Yali whining after waking up from his nap on my shoulder.

“Wait! Wait!” Bob orders the hallway. “Everyone step back! I need room!”

Then he slaps himself in the face, spins around, and lands in a heap on the floor. And Yali laughs, forgetting all about the whining. His own personal Three Stooges at his beck and call.

So eventually we adjourned outside to prevent ourselves from further corruption of the peace.

It was almost 4:30 when we left for home, windows down in the oven of a late afternoon. Hitting a little traffic on Page, I noticed Yali in the rearview mirror wiggling his eyebrows up and down to the music.

Grammar homework. Dinner. “Phineas and Ferb”. Puck’s mind wanders sometimes when he’s completely absorbed in something. Things don’t always translate the way they’re meant to…

“Puck? Turn the volume down a little okay, bud?”

“Okay, Mom.” Instead, in his distracted state, he bowed his head and folded his hands together. “Dear Jesus, thank you for today and thank you for…”