The little boy is sick today.
He crawled into bed with us this morning and promptly started barking like a seal. Not in a good way.
He took longer than usual to jump up and head downstairs.
And he kicked me when I asked him a simple question.
Today might be a pajama day. A sockless-shoeless-underwearless-braless-not-leaving-the-house pajama day.
For both our sakes, warn me if you decide to come over.
Normally at this time, I would be standing at the door of the car asking the little boy “are you buckled?”
He would answer “yes,” then I’d check anyway.
Yesterday, before I had a chance to do that, he asked me “are you buck blue?”
It took me a second to make the connection.
I guess he had been hearing “are you buck gold?” when I asked him about the seat belt.
On the way to school, he went through every color.
“Are you buck red?”
“Are you buck yellow?”
“Are you buck green?”
“Are you buck orange?”
Why yes, as a matter of fact, I am a little buck blue.
It was supposed to be a breakfast-with-Mom#2 day.
I miss Mom#2, but breakfast will have to wait.
Yesterday, I cut my lip on crusty sourdough bread. (Or nachos the night before. I’m not sure which.)
Today, it’s annoying, unattractive and kind of clown lippy.
And the little boy is sick, doesn’t know his limits and still wants candy.
Sigh. I am buck blue.
I am buck red, because I have been eating a handful of these from my yard everyday this week.
They are GOOD. So good. I can’t wait for the big plum tomatoes in the background to ripen.
Speaking of plum, I am buck purple.
We’re going to need a ladder to reach this one, assuming the birds don’t reach it first.
I am buck pink and buck orange too.
And with the very first Morning Glory we’ve ever had in our teeny yard, I am back to buck blue.
The little boy is buck blue too. Just not himself.
Though you’d never guess it from his gymnastics.
What color are you?
Are you buck blue too?