Monday, July 5, 2010
"He's fast," Daddy says, "but I'm FASTER!" Dustbuster in hand, boy and his father tear through the kitchen, "Where'd he go?" Daddy calls. Half-a-rumpus past the fridge, he freezes, "Shhh. There he is." He points, a fly.
A fly. The hunt is on. Boy watches Daddy, squints his eyes, leans close. Daddy raises both eyebrows, "Allllmost," he drawls. He edges the Dustbuster slowly, slowly, yes there, into the fly's blind spot -- THERE! And ALMOST! In half-a-second-less-than-no-time the fly floats back to life.
Later, the vacuum clicks off, "Gotcha!"
"Daddy, can he fly out of there?"
Daddy frowns, "Click, VAaroOOooM!"
They trounce back through the kitchen and into the yard, trophy in hand.
Later, Jane and Jack teeter-todder in and out of the house, leave the door open for lots more flies. "Why do you have to talk about guns and toots all the time?" Janie wants to know.
Jack shrugs. "Wanna go outside and play?"
"Ok." Off they go.
Lulie runs to catch up.
86. Sleep. More sleep than a month ago.
87. Counters clean and wiped smooth.
88. Bleach solution.
89. Soap and running water.
90. Laundry wadded into stacks -- folded they say.
91. Bacon and brown sugar, black beans.
92. The boy who wipes his nose on the couch and peeks over, "I love you, Momma."
93. My sliced fingernail, almost grown back now.
94. That Lulie hasn't flooded the toilet lately.
95. The Declaration of Independence and the blood spilled on my behalf.
96. The freedom to worship Jesus.