The Calm Before
Puck was in his space footies stretched out on his stomach on top of Crackers’ cat condo, arms stretched out on both sides like a bird.
“Imagination never ceases to surprise me,” he declared.
Me neither.
“Why is everything so ridiculously busy today? Oh …”
I always ask that dumb question right before a winter storm. Naturally our little family consistently finds the need to pick up mundane items like sandwiches and pens smack in the center of blizzard stock-up mayhem.
El Oso navigated the labyrinth of picked-over produce, dodging a tall smiling African American man with a happy voice.
“Ooh, dancin’ with me, huh?” he grinned. “Everybody’s just dancin’ around and all crazy today!”
That’s the right way to get the shopping done.
Oso looked over the many shelves of car oil in the less-populated corner of the store. Puck helped him decide between the gold bottles and silver bottles.
“It doesn’t really matter which one you get, Dad. They’re all the same potion.”
It was already four o’clock. Five hours till predicted detonation. Theodore and Gloria had just left for a week in Branson, so we were splitting our time between houses and pets.
RAP! RAP! RAP! Someone was at the door.
“COME IN!” Puck yelled.
Didn’t even look out the window. Good thing I don’t leave this kid unsupervised. Fortunately it was just Tasha requesting some additional help with the printer Oso had just set up for her. She also sent a dollar over to Puck for collecting her mail while she was gone.
Errands run, house cleaned, laundry folded, bags packed, upcoming birthday gifts purchased, Entenmann’s snack size powdered donuts finished off … ahem … fed Crackers extra (I think she thought she stumbled into Kitty Heaven), and we were out the door.
Brats, sausage-y burgers, Izzy packing up to move back into the dorm for J-term the following day. If Alaska didn’t fall on the city first. I lugged over two boxes of books alone that Puck and I would need for the week. Another two bottles of that sparkling cider in the garage. That’s some strong stuff. And they wonder why I don’t like alcohol. Watching a band of ice blue crawl across New Mexico to Canada. We were in for it, no doubt. Really though, it’s always on the weekends.