The Circus

“OW! OW! OW! OW!”

“Heidi! Look at Puck! Look what he’s doing!”

Giggle, giggle, giggle.

“AHHHHHHH!”

“Heidi! Look at Yali! Look what he’s doing!”

Guffaw, guffaw.

As I sat on the playground after school with five highly energetic and happy kiddos, I realized that my sons had somehow become the Silverspoon Brothers Circus right before my very eyes. Swinging upside-down and backwards from the monkey bars, landing in heaps on the ground. Because the more fake injuries, the bigger the laughs. Pleased to entertain the troops watching from the park bench.

Earlier, they all ran up and down the halls together, laughing – at times uproariously – at Yali, taking wild swings at all of them like he was a prized luchador.

“You all are having way too much fun out here! Take those smiles off your faces!” the headmaster teased them.

This only increased laughter.

“You kids are going to remember these days,” Hans added. “’Remember when we all used to run around the halls after school together? And Puck would collect… stuff?’”

Always. Today it was honeycomb-like cardboard stuffing. Endless cardboard.

Movie night: “Atomic Cafe” – a dark comedy/documentary of nuclear history. Carrie-Bri brought homemade hummus and veg. Gloria made nachos and taco dip. Before I could finish watching, however, Puck came back from a birthday/pool party down the street.

“Better go check on him,” Oxbear told me. “He doesn’t feel so well.”

I went upstairs. “What’s going on, buddy?”

“Oh… I don’t feel so well, Mom. I had a root beer float, and then more root beer. And I was swimming. And I didn’t drink enough water. And now I have a real bad headache. Can you stay here with me? Can you massage me? I’m sore all over.”

So I tucked him in for the night.

“My headache’s better, Mom,” he said after awhile. “You can go now. I just said that because I need more pillow room. Okay, I adjusted it. It’s okay. You can stay now.”

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

“You can keep massaging, too.”