Until next time
Life is short. Life is long. Math class is really, really long. It is so important to take time to enjoy all the little things, the bright orange sun going down, the pretty blue flowers that line the sidewalks, the smells of a bakery. The taste of kosher Cheetos. The adorable little 2-year-old who will not eat chicken no matter how creatively you try to give it to her. “Go away chicken,” she says quite emphatically.
Just as emphatically as her father said it 26 years ago. In fact, most things she does, she does the same as her father did when he was that age. “You are little Jonah,” I say to her with so much love, “Tatty Jonah,” she says back to me. (Tatty means father in, I am assuming, Yiddish). And she is right. Tatty is Jonah.
But, man, is it adorable watching the next generation act the same as the previous one. Because Tatty was the child that my parents wished on me. And the circle of life continues. Every time she says no, I have to hold back laughter.
What I find interesting is that I was the parent who sent in Gushers as a healthy snack because they were fruit flavored (so there must have been some kind of fruit- related chemical in them) and now that kid, who thoroughly enjoyed his Gushers (and the fact that his mom was a little, okay, a lot, nuts) won’t accept a granola bar as a healthy snack for his mini-me.
“But granola is healthy,” I plead to Son #2. “No, it isn’t, Mom,” he retorts, as my DIL #2 giggles and does her best not to get involved.
“Just let her eat it,” I say to Son #2.
“No, she has to eat the chicken,” he replies.
Since I am in their home, I respect their rules. But Tatty eventually had to go to synagogue, and that is when little Jonah had her granola bar. Was that wrong? We won’t go into that, but she is just the cutest little thing, and Hashem should keep her and her family healthy, happy and safe.
Son #2 can make her eat chicken when I am not there…
In any event, I just celebrated my fourth Shabbos in Israel. And because I miscalculated when my flight is, I am going home a day sooner than I thought (God willing, if we have learned anything in the last few years, we have learned that no flight is guaranteed). I had to cancel plans because I had told my kids they could (and should) go out to dinner, and since I messed up when I was leaving, well, you get the point.
I only finished one of the three books I brought with me, but that is a good sign. A sign that I had very little down time, and the down time I did have, I used to rewatch some seasons of the show “The Middle.” Which, even though it is a comedy, made me cry because my life was so different when that show aired, and with the passage of time come good things, bad things, sad things, and so on and so forth and what have you.
I feel badly talking about my trip and how truly amazing it was because Husband #1 has been home, in pain, and I haven’t been there to give him a hard time in person. And, it turns out, he is going to need surgery, but he is putting it off because, God willing, I am running Camp Babka for a few weeks and he doesn’t want to let Strudel and her sisters down. Which doesn’t really make any sense, because I am the one who runs the camp.
Oh wait, I guess I will be running a different kind of camp when he is recovering from surgery. Yes, it is all about me, and I am the best wife ever, but please keep him in your prayers that this works because it is hard to make fun of him when he really isn’t feeling well. And he doesn’t take pills, which I think I have mentioned before, and it is hard to find a good pain killer in liquid form. Good times all around.
Cannot believe it is already the middle of August…
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is hoping you are all having a wonderful, healthy summer. She hopes she remembers how to drive when she gets back….