The World is Full of Them

“Dad! Dad! There’s something inside my pillow! I heard it!”

The Bear auto-piloted himself before six AM back to Puck’s room where the space-man pajamas had strolled our way again. I fell asleep while he was out, apparently, because when he returned my next question was…

“Did you say something about poetry?”

“No…”

Fall back into silence… Some uninformed time later…

“MEHH!”

A solitary enormous sheep bleat split the early morning air. The Bear rocketed out of bed to investigate.

“What was that all about?”

“He said he saw fingers,” The Bear muttered, falling back onto the pillow. “But he was smiling about it.”

“And what did he think was in his pillow earlier?”

“Humming… But he was also smiling about it.”

Because The Bear was working from home today, he got an even earlier start to slip a ladder into the attic and check out the “squirrel” problem. Puck was eager to help, as usual. He rifled around for flashlights or other plug-in lamps that The Bear could haul with him into the recesses.  Of course in the process, he managed to “unplug the Internet”. He also forgot about the hard-boiled egg on his plate in the kitchen, which Crackers was batting back and forth like a soccer ball.

Our secretary apparently didn’t feel like spending Christmas by herself this year. So she hopped a flight – presumably – home to California, while I filled in with my usual role at a very dead office.

While I was stuffing paper, Puck spent the morning with Mom. Cherry was back in town. Four years plus removed, and those girls are still going strong. So Puck was pounding a yellow punching balloon on the couch when I picked him up. There was also a yellow Permit Driver paper sign for the newest driver in the family: Linnea-Irish, applying brown eye liner at the bathroom sink while Cherry and Eleda did similar.

On a day when The Bear works from home, we also find ourselves able to run a few errands together, just to have some time to talk about everything and explore the world.  Even if it’s just at Lowe’s. It was time to purchase paint for the bed. And even though it wasn’t conventional, I guess, we stuck with the sapphire. Cobalt Stone to be exact. Puck was interested in all the swatches, of course. Just like I was when I was a kid. [Still am.] All the colors in the world, just waiting to be grabbed. At one point, Puck found an actual spiral book filled with color swatches.

“Look, Dad! A color checkbook!”

Our pint of paint was done, and we left a quiet Lowe’s into the cold and gray evening. Chick-fil-A. “The Incredibles” on my laptop at the red couch. Unexpected family evenings are good things.

We had our regular movie feature as well. Carrie-Bri, Joe, and Rose. We had the brownies and “The Forbidden Planet” ready to go. Carrie had the two boxes of Scandinavian blonde hair dye. [That was for me].

“Well, as long as it doesn’t start turning green or falling out…” she mumbled, reading the box. “I actually read the instructions for this one.”

But no nest ended up in the sink, and my hair was no more blonde than it had been in Israel. Plus, we got to laugh our way through “one of the best sci-fi movies ever made” in the basement, which I actually thought was pretty good. The Time Machine blonde walked on set between lime green wall beams and purple garden hedges – the tiniest white mini-skirt dress, draped in swags of garnets.

“Where are her pants?” was the general question circulating the couches.

The girl’s father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, introducing her to the three visiting commanders/doctors from the flying saucer in the desert, encouraging her to visit Earth with them.

“Oh, but I would miss my friends,” she sparkled, walking into the garden to whistle for them.

“Here, pants! Here, pants, pants, pants!” Joe squawked.

“I got tired of my pants so I turned them into friends!” Carrie added, fingers deep in the gooey lather of blonde cream.

Two forest deer and a tiger bounded into the picture past the bare-legged, bare-footed 1950’s model. But the running theme of too-little pants had become the focal point of the picture. It was too late. And Joe was unable to witness the finale planetary explosion. He had a date at the real movies with a Philmont pal.