The Wind is Back

Our studies in Genesis 3 continued last night. Puck interrupted occasionally when he had a question.

“So the devil used to walk?”

“Well, that’s what some people think.”

“Or maybe he floated?”

Hadn’t thought of that one before. Slightly more creepy. It’s always an insightful experience reading the Bible to a 3rd grader.

While getting ready for school that morning, Puck stuck his foot on my bed.

“Mom, my toe still hurts.”

The night before he had dropped a 2.5 pound weight on it, leaving his foot a little numb.

“Well, it’s not broken. It’s not black and blue.”

“Yeah, Mom. But it moves way too easily.”

He demonstrated by wiggling it back and forth with his finger. Judging by his ability to play about ten games of high-energy tag on the playground with Big J and some other kids later that afternoon, however, I determined that the toe in question must have been healed.

Meanwhile, one of Puck’s buddies tried to give Big J pointers in the art of handling two year-olds. “Want me to show you how to hold him?”

And while they all ran around, Lucy provided sustenance in the form of frosted sugar cookies. Because these boys are always hungry. Always.

Earlier that day, after an uneventful hour keeping an eye on the school office, Yali and I wrapped up our afternoon at the Big House. Mom was down for the count with a bug in her room. Francis was knee-deep in grease and oil, finishing two thousand dollars’ worth of self-repairs on his truck, and very happy that he wouldn’t have to pay the bill. Irish and Thumper were on the roof with their ukuleles, singing songs about amorous volcanoes. Carrie made Greek pasta for lunch, then took a break on the porch to read an autobiographical work about a police officer. And the sun and wind were fine – high wind – just like it should be in March.

On the drive home after four o’clock, Yali requested more techno music from his carseat. “Requested” by whining an unintelligible “no” until I skipped it to the song he wanted. Hmmm… Meanwhile, Puck dove head-first into his math and science homework in the back seat. It’s become a race to finish it before the thirty minutes down the highway are done. My Big Guy is growing up.