The Broken Mug

Rattle, Rattle. CRASH!

I turned around from the kitchen table to find Puck standing over yet another broken coffee mug on the floor.

“What happened this time, Puck?”

“I was just doing the moon walk in my rollerblades, Mom.” A look of disbelief on his face.

“Well, clean it up, bud.”

Puck began clearing the hopelessly shattered mug fragments off the floor, arranging them on the table for me. “You can just glue this one back together, Mom,” he assured me.

When I have time to dust off the old archival museum restoration kit, I’ll have to give it a try.