The Crazy Has Returned
After an easy night home – I only had to set three alarms for myself to administer medicine – Yali woke up just as ravenous as ever, but willing to survive on juice and broth for the next seven hours until his prescribed 48-hour hiatus from food was concluded. Although with the fasting before surgery it really ended up being closer to 72 hours.
While I got Puck ready for school, Yali giggled through his ear drops, required for three days after receiving his ear tubes. I guess it must have tickled or something. But then again, he’s pretty much always laughing whenever Oxbear does anything with him. I live with three clowns.
My morning entertainment included waiting in line at the store check-out, watching a huge chocolate milk puddle on the floor grow larger and larger two registers down after some kid had busted it wide open.
With all that excitement in the books, I returned to my boys with a truckload of yogurt, soups, and pureed fruit and veg packs for the rapidly recovering Yali. The little nut was about as crazy as usual, and as loud as usual. For a girl who could have hands down won “Most Quiet” in High School, how I got two boys who can break the sound barrier, is clearly beyond me.
I waited for Puck on the other side of the gym door after school. His usual cardboard collection. One of the 4th or 5th graders rounded the bend and looked at me carefully as he entered the gym.
“Are you twenty or something?” he asked.
Bless his heart.
29 pizza boxes. The only way Puck managed to leave the gym with this record number of boxes to date was that they had already been deconstructed and ready for the ride home.
As we drove our thirty minutes homeward, I sensed the back seat growing and multiplying with the presence of cardboard. Yes, Puck had put every single one of those 29 greasy pizza boxes back together again for some mystery project.
When our portable garbage can pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, I was feeling the “tired” of a long week. But there was always enough energy left for twenty minutes in the Lego aisle as Puck debated with himself over the perfect way to spend his fifteen dollars.
“I chose the Scooby Doo one,” he explained as we headed for the check-out, “because it has gems and a hamburger.”
A Lego hamburger? For an eight year-old boy, was there really ever any other option?