The Experiment

After dreaming twice during the night that Obama had won, Collette woke both times, so certain that he had really won.
The dreams had been so real, that she, for some unknown reason, had felt sorry for the man. Why she would have felt sorry for him for winning, she couldn’t explain.
She opened the curtain the next morning to see the elderly person’s house with the Obama yard sign across the street,
with toilet paper hanging from their tree. That gave her a clue.
But then, as OLeif pointed out, the TP-ing could have been an act of rubbing-it-in-your face, as well. But it didn’t seem as likely.
When Collette and Puck dropped by OLeif’s work for Collette to sign refinance papers, OLeif warned everyone not to speak about anything presidential while she was present.
Of course, when Shirk Shale asked her, “Why can’t you know who won?”
And Collette said, “I’m just trying to see how long I can last without knowing.”
Shirk replied, “Will that help anything?”
Another glaring hint.
The biggest obstacle of the day was getting through the grocery store without overhearing a conversation. Collette avoided pushing their cart near any group of two or more people, including clerks. And they left unscathed.
Come afternoon, Puck was testing the outer limits. Having refused another nap, which had lately become more appealing to him, Collette set him up with a Tupperware of black beans and OLeif’s measuring spoons in the kitchen, while she washed the dishes.
Shortly later, Collette realized that all of the spoons were missing. Not only had Puck continued to sample the dried beans, which for some reason, he found to be tasty, he had dropped many of them down the air conditioning vent. This included all of the measuring spoons.
While Collette fished them out, Puck ran around the house, looking for other interests. When he returned, Collette was scooping together the beans.
“That is all the beans you get, Sir.”
Puck picked up the last remaining bean and placed it in the Tupperware.
“Thanks, Puck,” she said.
It was impossible to be mad at the little fellow.