You Do it Better!

Last night while reading Genesis 3 to Puck, I had a question for him.

“Puck, what do you think would have happened if only Eve ate the fruit?”

His eyes grew wide and he pushed two fists high into the air. “Men would be… EPIC!”

Maybe some of that lost epic-ness inspired Puck the following morning to shout down the hallway from the computer game on my laptop, “MOM! CAN YOU MAKE ME SOME BUTTERED TOAST?!”

Halfway through dressing Yali, I answered, “Puck, you can put the bread in the toaster yourself.”

“BUT YOU CAN DO IT SO MUCH BETTER THAN I CAN!”

This is pure Francis influence. Pure Francis.

“Puck. Honestly.”

“BUT, MOM! I’M CONCENTRATING REALLY HARD! PLEASE!”

There was no toast that morning.

Once Puck had forgotten the toast and moved on to other things, like preparing his emergency kit, he asked to add in the authentic Sudanese tribal spearhead on display in the living room.

“It’s not that sharp, Mom.”

It’s that sharp.

Before Yali’s nap I let the boys loose outside. Our street is low traffic, so with Puck on his bike slowly cruising back and forth in front of the house, I watched Yali chase him with a long stick, Puck yelling protests:

“AHHHH! HE’S GONNA WHACK ME WITH THE STICK!”

I’m sure the neighbors appreciated that.

Back inside while Yali snoozed, Puck completed a sheet of handwriting assignments which he folded into a paper airplane and flew to me for inspection.

A relatively quiet afternoon out at the Silverspoon house. More Irish soda bread in the oven. The boys watched “Big Hero 6” in the basement. Temperatures dropped outside.

Back home that evening, Puck was telling me just how good his memory actually is.

“I still remember being in your stomach!”

“Really? How do you know?”

“I remember the x-rays!”

Now that is something.