The Mending
6:01AM. Click. Light on in Puck’s room. That was a better wake-up call. Crackers had already begun her morning routine of rubbing her silky self against Puck’s head and stomach, subtly requesting breakfast from her master.
Puck and I chipped away at the dino block before lunch. He was just as enthralled with the plaster dust cloud as he was with the actual bone pieces removed from the block. Thrilled by the emergence of the tail and the head, we paused for some BallyK while The Bear finished his all-morning nap.
“I want a burger,” The Bear grumbled, pillow halfway over his head.
Uh oh.
“Yes!”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea…”
“With lettuce and tomato and bacon.”
No. But who was I to deprive The Bear of red meat. No matter what the recent condition of his stomach. I gave him an hour to think about it.
So with success, we made a clothing donation, hit the ATM for Christmas deposits, fueled up the blue slug, returned the batteries to Walgreen’s, bought The Bear that burger – and what do you know; he felt fine [ok, so I participated as well], and stocked the fridge and pantry for the rest of the week.
“Mom! There’s that cereal I was talking about!” Puck crooned.
See, this is why I never let him watch television. Well. One reason. Life without kid-packed buy-buy-buy commercials is a much easier way to live. But I have to say, even with a Sunday filled with these new and interesting observations for Puck, only one of them stuck in his mind.
Coco Roos.
Because he’s never really asked for a sugary cereal before – in my memory – The Bear allowed the knock-off version.
“Only if you have bacon and eggs or something with it,” he said. “Or for a snack.”
“THANK YOU, DAD!”
We made a second round to the Silverspoon’s where the boys, Joe included, were delved deep in Minecraft and Star Wars games. Theodore was sanding the bed frame. Puck and The Bear joined the game crew, the latter resembling a fisherman in knit cap, beard, and a whole jug of Simply Orange orange juice, toting it like a coffee mug in one fist.
I didn’t realize that “beard envy” was a thing, by the way. I really don’t think I’ve ever seen The Bear not get a compliment on the… forest… growing out of his face.
“Nice beard, man,” a guy will say to him at some eatery. “I wish I could grow one of those. But they’ll only let me have this mustache.”
Anyway, they ended up switching on Brave instead after awhile. It was cold out. Gray. Finally something decent for December. Puck requested a banana and settled himself back in the rocking chair in his green Minecraft creeper shirt by Curly, giggling at the bear attack. A fresh poinsettia sat on the counter, the one artifact upstairs representing the holidays, as the tree had been removed to the basement.
Gloria heated a peppered ham, a pan of Brussels sprouts, mushrooms, and green beans, soft-baked rolls, and there was still sparkling cider in the fridge for Puck and myself. While the five older guys hung out at the dining room table with more manly things, like wine and coffee, apparently.
We left late again, while Joe and Curly were going to hang out with Wally. Seems like it’s always just “old times” when those boys get together. Travel, work, school, fiances, wife, kid, whatever. When they’re back in town at the same time, they’re just kids again.
“[JOE] HAD A GREAT DAY TODAY WITH ALL THE FUN ACTIVITES!” – Joe