Three Days

Oxbear locked the door to his office early that morning so we could consult together about something – I don’t even remember what – before he drove Puck to school. It’s usually necessary to close the door against the noise of boys, and lock it, against the running around of boys. Sure enough, all it took was about a minute of relative quiet on the other side before a blood-curdling yell penetrated the walls.

“I FORGOT TO CHANGE MY UNDERWEAR!!!! AAAAH!!!!”

I let Puck sort out his own disaster – because there is apparently nothing worse than tucking in your polo and belting your shorts before realizing that you forgot to change your undies – and took care of other pressing issues instead.

The rain my knee felt coming the other night had only arrived in the form of thundershowers a little to our south on Tuesday. Wednesday wasn’t looking any more promising.

It didn’t seem like Mom and Carrie-Bri were seeing much better down in Sarasota either.

Later in the afternoon, a pile of kids ran around the upper playground, pausing only for some tiger pops on the monkey bars to share secrets. If secrets they can be called when half-yelled across the playground.

“Aw, can’t I have a lollipop now?” Annie-Bea pleased, joining the party a little late.

“Only if you tell me a secret first!” Heidi grinned.

There’s always a price to pay.

After dropping Puck off at Snicky’s for a couple of hours, Yali and I took a forty minute spin home with a bag of hand-me-down Tonka cars from Big J – no back seat whining from Yali for once.

I watched the young man at dinner.

“MM YUM!” he declared after every bite of fish.

He cleared his plate in minutes, then lifted the plate ever so carefully to his chubby lips to drain the remaining fish juice.

“MM!”

I just stared at him.

Puck returned from Snicky’s, stuffed with pizza and a little more rich for having discovered the remains of a complete deer skull in the woods.