The Only One Who Leaves

I dragged myself out of random dreams later than usual this morning. The groggy throat-eyes-cough had caught up with me a little. [I guess the ballpark adrenaline cure was only momentary.] So this called for tea and porridge. Puck too. Carrie-Bri suggested honey and cinnamon with the tea, which seemed to help. Puck kept himself busy experimenting with the density of his porridge through a bright blue drinking straw. Sometimes its – my son, the regular vacuum cleaner. To escape the sluggish start, I switched on some Modeselektor during breakfast.

Within reason.

Then Ralph Vaughan Williams.

Balance – have to have some balance.

The Bear didn’t have things quite so comfy. Today was his first big-time Greek exam of the semester.

While I taught Puck about the Nez Perce and how to read digital clocks, Puck wrapped half a package of brightly colored pipe cleaners one at a time around a screwdriver. Then he popped them off like fat jungle-style wooly worms.

“Here, Mom,” he said sweetly, handing me a sapphire blue model. “To catch your coughs.”

I don’t know about anyone else, but I find that pipe cleaners almost universally represent the collective inability to produce creative originality. There’s just only so much you can do with a pipe cleaner, apparently. I’m not complaining. Maybe I just don’t understand the world of crafts. I write this as my five year-old painfully wraps a pink pipe cleaner into my ponytail in effort to create some Suess-worthy antennae.

“You have a braid in your hair, Mom,” he giggles.

I’ll bet I do.

And in my eagerness to be absolved of all accusatory cavity activities, I failed to mention that Puck’s top front right tooth was discovered to be loose.

Priority check.

I overheard him in the other room with the dentist…

“I guess the tooth fairy’s going to bring me some toothpaste now.”

Sometimes I neglect full explanation of childhood myths and legends…

The kids were back.

I guess this whole movie/comedy/whatever night has now transpired more or less regularly for the last five years now. Things catch up with you fast. Over a coffee table weighed heavy with spicy dips, chips, cookies, bottles of Coke… and all those good, “good”, things we were only supposed to get away with in college.

I am reminded of my age.

And scary turkey-vulture puppets.

Rose showed off photos of her new private office at work, with corner windows to view incoming storms. [That’s a Snicketts first-thought when discussing location.] Crackers received introduction to the inside of Joe’s shirt – local cat haven and sanctuary. And Magnus tried to double up with some atmospheric science studies, apparently, as the lack of plot deteriorated.

We quickly got bored with the vulture-turkey puppets…

And explored some more Korean filmography instead. I have initiated Rose into this strange and very unexplained world as well.

“My neighbors must think I’m Korean,” she explained.

We’re on a roll.