The Humanity

“PLUTO IS STILL A PLANET! I DON’T CARE WHAT THOSE SCIENTISTS SAY!” It suddenly occurred to me that colder Friday morning why Puck wants to be a scientist when he grows up. Reverse all those verdicts against his favorite rocky wad in the great “out there.” He was absolutely indignant about it, arms folded across his chest, scowling. With this attitude, he’s sure to go far.

A couple of dance parties landed us back on the couch with another stack of books. And a pale flesh-colored spider crawling up my yoga pants. Treachery! That is the one downside of warm windy days in winter. Not to mention the sprawling ugly thing sitting smugly on my tomato soup bedroom wall just by the light switch Thursday night. Unacceptable.

The afternoon was cool, but windows were opened. Puck biked up and down the street on his Strider, examining the condition of the lime-yellow frisbee disc the wind landed in the sewer drain Thursday afternoon. He biked back up the driveway to the screen of the window, preaching hands raised with staccato inflections. “I can see it dimly. It’s still there. That’s the good news.” He ran back out into cold sunshine with his skateboard and moped helmet to share with Eddie down the street, who was relieved to have no homework for the afternoon.

Puck got one more spend-the-night in on the month that evening, where Mom and Dad were wrapping up dinner with a quinoa casserole and pretzel rolls. Then dessert. Carrie rewards Dad for eating healthy food with a moderate bowlful of acai chocolate-covered berries following every dinner. That night, however, Carrie was too busy to act as the “berry fairy,” as she has been dubbed. She passed the job on to Irish. “So?” Dad asked, holding out the bowl. Irish just grinned. “Sorry, Dad. They’re all gone.” “You’re kidding.” Irish laughed, “Nope. There’s like four left.” Dad retrieved his bowl in disgust. “Well. That doesn’t make me happy.” Irish just kept laughing. So Dad hunted up some ice cream instead while Carrie, Lucia, and I left for Rose’s to meet up with El Oso and Ricky. Three hours: cans of blackberry Izze, Costco bakery cookies, conversations about ghosts and the spirit world, and then “Blackbeard’s Ghost,” that old Disney classic, with a fat Stinkerbelle taking swipes at Rose’s wrists whenever provoked by the tickling of her fuzzy toes. Another Friday at its best.

Puck’s Blog: Age 6: Day #27

I think Pluto should be a real planet! Because I just don’t like the way that they think it isn’t a real planet. I don’t like the way that they think it’s a dwarf planet. I would make Pluto a real planet by commanding the scientists to make it a real planet.