These Fast Fridays
Puck slyly held a Lego contraption up to my face early this morning as I passed him in the hall. I could tell by the look of suave pride on his face that he had created it himself:
“Look, Mom. It takes a brilliant mind to figure this out.”
I guess I’m just glad he’s not sixteen yet. But confidence, confidence is, can be, a good thing.
Some hours later into the day, Puck continued to create Legos and more Lego things, involving Lego people with Lego spears and Lego magnifying glasses:
“Mom? Have you seen my Lego man?”
“Which one?”
“The one who’s a bad guy because he steals stuff, but he’s still a Christian.”
I had not.
Maybe it was because I was busy with a mailing for the Ryes, bubble-wrap-padded manilla envelopes stacked all over the place. Then Francis pulled up the driveway, eliciting Puck yells and hoots like firecrackers:
“FRAN! FRAN! FRAN! YEAH! WOOOOO!”
An hour helping Francis with resume and essay, while he distracted himself with cookies, water marbles, and Puck; then he ran off to do whatever it is Francis does, promising an afternoon revisit.
True to his word, the Fit crawled back up the driveway around two o’clock. More revisions, more cookies, and milk.
By the time he had left, Puck had entertained Crackers – or probably she had entertained him – in the cat tent in the back yard, singing along to “Demons” by Imagine Dragons (maybe I should check out those lyrics…), dinner, and a walk around the block, Puck zooming around on his Razor, it was another movie night. Rose, Carrie-Bri, Joe, and El Oso piled in, 1-2-3-4.
While we waited for Jaya to arrive, Rose learned that her dress for the wedding was now available to model.
“I thought it was blue.”
“Periwinkle,” Carrie explained.
“Oh, good. Periwinkle is the only wishy-washy color that I like.”
Anyway. Terrible Japanese dubbed B-movie Mystery Science Theater, Cards game on laptop mute, nail salon by Carrie, variety of Doritos and mostly terrible cookies, Italian ices (per Rose-request).
After the credits rolled, Jaya cut her foot on something sharp on the floor. Blood. Hydrogen peroxide. Macaroni and cheese band-aid. Who knows what lurks in the deep cold dark of that underworld.
“You are up to date on your tetanus shot, right?” Carrie checked.
She was.