"Jack use your sense of color," Jane demands.
The floor, a scatter of puzzle pieces, Jack reaches for one with half a leopard half a rhino. "I got a sense of color," he says, "I do, I do." He jabs at a partially assembled jungle.
"He's putting a leopard print on a bird," Jane flabbergasts.
He sighs, turns the piece, pops it in place. "See, I got a sense of color back in," he says.
47 pieces of jungle tumble on to the living room rug. They work the pieces one by one. Their hands flip them, rotate them, line them straight and scoop them back to box and cabinet. Between the segments they weave their world.
Lulie hums. An out-loud, drum of a hum, I suddenly realize it has words.
"The name of the Lord of me," she says, "the name of the Lord of me's YES SIR." She rotates the red feathers of a toucan. "The name of the Lord of me," she lilts. And "YES SIR." She blinks grown up and tilts her head, captures another piece.
The puzzle materializes again, that same 48th piece missing still. They don't mind.
And more, small puzzles occur all 'round the house. Little squarish and rectangular notes, they appear, markers of conversation pieced together.
744. A gun lesson from Daddy.
745. Their jaw-dropped, dumbfounded, "Wow! It shoots through WALLS!" when Daddy crafts a faux wall and shoots it.
746. A healthy fear and respect of guns coupled with their daddy's confidence.
747. Husband with his dad.
748. Jack's comment, "I saw a camel with a really little hump," and how we howl and laugh and call all the horses camels-with-really-little-humps.
749. Laundry soap that smells like honey and spring.
750. How husband volunteer-creates a newsletter for Spring of Hope in his off hours.
751. Avocado sliced on tortilla chips.
752. An afternoon with freckled cousin and how the children all make compasses and follow them who knows where naming every direction.
753. How husband caricatures me after a selfish day and we laugh nearly to tears.
754. Diligent attention to attitude and tone of voice as much as behavior.
755. Dutch butter cookies.
756. A bunch of good diaper deals this week.
757. How Jack jumps extra far off the monkey bars to impress me when I volunteer in his class at church.
758. Soup and red licorice at mom's.
759. Lulie's comment, eyebrows all serious, "If you pray and ask God, he will come into your tummy."
760. Another week fuller than the last of all the important things.