St. Patty

The day of St. Patrick.
Carrie spent almost her entire holiday becoming re-certified in radiological emergency management. Joe wore his green, albeit uniform, at work for six hours. And Mom had two moderately-sized crock-pots of corned beef cooking slowly all day in time for supper.
Meanwhile, Puck woke up from his nap with Linnea’s giant stuffed penguin, which he had decided to call “Pingo”.
By the time everyone had gathered for dinner, Mom had pulled out the works. Collette dug into a pile of potatoes, slicing them into cubes until she rubbed a blister on her finger. Carrie arranged cappuccino and vanilla wafer rolls in two of Mom’s new tumblers. And then the spread: red corn beef, soft wheat rolls with butter, and roasted potatoes in olive oil (yellow potatoes, red potatoes, and sweet potatoes).
It was like any other family meal. Conversation flying loudly back and forth between everyone as they scooped into their dishes, Puck included. Everything was discussed — the inevitable humor of Memorial church services, Linnea’s trip to the Caribbean with OLeif and Collette, Carrie’s professional business attire…
“How much you wanna bet Joe gets home from work and stuffs two of these wafer rolls up his nose?” Carrie said. “’Look, everyone, I’m a…’”
“’Walrus!’” Collette finished with her.
People began placing bets on which he would choose, the cappuccino or the vanilla.
When Joe did, arrive, however, he was too distracted talking about his bike ride of the past hour and a half following work, which was continued with a discussion regarding Green Lantern.
“You’d better get ready to go, Francis,” Dad advised, over his bowl of ice cream.
“What?” Francis asked, confused.
“The Scouts are touring Green Lantern tonight.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’ll go with them!” Joe announced. “And I’ll wear my Scout uniform. I’ll let Francis wear my work uniform and he can clock in for me and start cleaning cars.”
“Yeah,” Francis giggled loudly. “I’d probably put carpet cleaner all over the windows or something.”
“Well, thanks for dinner, Mom,” said Rose, patting her stomach. “It was tasty.”
“Where are you going?” Carrie asked.
“Juliet’s.”
“You have a smudge under your eye, Rose,” Dad told her.
“Yeah, your make-up’s messed up,” said Carrie.
“I know.”
“You have black stuff under your eyes,” Joe said, and threw a roll across the table to Collette.
“I know!”
“Have you not been getting enough sleep lately?” Francis asked. “Because you have…”
“Circles under your eyes,” he and Carrie said at the same time.
“I know!” Rose snapped, rubbing at her eyes in the foyer mirror.
And the ribbing around continued until everyone split ways for the evening. OLeif, Collette, and Puck were escorted down the road by Francis, balanced on top of his engine-less go-kart as it coasted over the pavement.
Collette returned home in time for one and a half walks around the neighborhood while OLeif and Puck watched a little “Andy Griffith” before bedtime.