Summer, Day 61

When I woke up this morning, Yali wiggled onto the high bed with a satisfied smile slapped on his cocoa face, and two halves of an apple, cut cleanly down the middle, one in each hand.

“Did Puck cut that in half for you?” I asked him.

“No,” he said. “I did.”

“What? How?”

Turns out the resourceful little niño had found Puck’s pocketknife and sliced it himself. No blood.