A Great Party

...even the cows had fun!

I have to say, it is with some mixed feelings that I write with tremendous excitement about today's big party.  You'll see what I mean....

They had been advertising for several days that there will be a big party at the refet (the dairy farm) to celebrate the new "haschacha" (whatever that is...).  A few days is more notice than they give around here for some weddings and bar mitzvahs, so you could tell it was gonna be big.  Today was the big day, and we were about to head down, when the sky opened and it began to pour.  We waited out the heavy part of the rain, while I was trying to picture what was happening to the moon bounces that were promised.    When the weather was down to a drizzle, we put on raincoats (except Shmuel), and headed down to the refet.  

Sure enough, there was a moon bounce and a big blow up slide.  Israeli-style, there were no rules, and kids of all sizes were trampling all over each other.  But no serious casualties, and lots of fun.  There was also a popcorn machine, ice cream, drinks, and a game where they made a pit full of hay and the kids got to climb in and search for candy inside.  

It felt like the whole kibbutz was there.  I am not good at numbers, but I certainly didn't notice anyone missing (except Ross and Tali, who were at Tali's piano lesson).  

When it came time for the afternoon prayers, instead of trekking up to the shul, since everyone was at the party, they just prayed right there (there must be a special religious dispensation for kibbutzniks to be allowed to pray surrounded by the smell of the cows...).  

After the afternoon prayers, there were speeches.  The speeches were very short and to the point.  One of the head administrators of the kibbutz got up to make some "thank you"s.  He began by saying he wants to thank those with whom this day would not be possible.  He said, "I'd like to thank 3219, 3457, 2984, 3542, and 1914 for their contributions."  It took me a minute to realize he was referring to the cows, who are stamped with numbers.  It was hilarious, while at the same time touching a nerve.  It makes me crazy to see all those cows cooped up in little pens with big numbers tattooed on their sides.  

Anyway, he gave some other thanks, and then another guy got up to talk about how much milk they had produced and what a successful year they had had.  He mentioned one particular cow, Felix, "may she rest in peace", who had apparently broken a national record for lifetime milk production.  He said that thanks to their great success, they were able to increase the business, leading to the dedication today of the new "sechacha" (which is, it seems, I don't know how to call it, but like a roof without walls that will make space for more cows).  

The first guy had already thanked the Arab contractors who oversaw the project, but another guy got up later to elaborate how very proud they were to work with such high quality contractors, who took great pride in their work.  He said he thinks it is amazing that we are about to cooperate so well together with our talented fellow Arab countrymen.    

The guy who was speaking last announced, "And now the part of the evening you've all been waiting for....  The hot air balloon will be arriving momentarily... just kidding folks, but seriously... the kids of the kindergarten and preschool will come up and sing."  Then Adin and 40 - 50 other kids got up and sang "Eretz Zavat Chalav" and "B'Rosh Hashana."  That was indeed the highlight.  Except, maybe, for the next part....

After the musical performance, we were all invited back to the "sechacha," where the refet staff said "Shechechiyanu" and cut the ribbon that had been tied in front of the gate.  then they blasted music, and opened the gate.  The sechacha is huge, and the cows started entering just a few at a time.  (here's where my excitement with the evening and my mixed feelings really fought it out...)  As they trickled in, it was like they couldn't believe how much space they had.  They began walking in slowly, but when they saw the space before them, they got so excited they started to leap.  Then, I kid you not, they were DANCING!  They were bucking about back and forth (seemingly) to the music, while everyone clapped and cheered.  You could see the fresh excitement with each new cow that entered the space and saw the dance floor before her.  Until finally it was all crowded like the other sections, and they were back to just standing there, looking around on the ground for food.  So that was the sad part.  I wanted them each to get their own big sechacha.  Oe maybe they could divide them up into a few cows per sechacha, so they could dance together (Don't worry-- no mixed dancing-- they're all girls!!), and then maybe they could sit and drink some tea and play Scrabble.  It's weird-- when I suggested they hire me in the refet to implement my new ideas, they turned me down.  But they did say I could come down one day and give an English lesson to the cows, like I did at Adin's gan last year.  So that could be fun....

Stay tuned for the next update, when I will teach the cows to say "Moooooo...."  

Until then, Good night, good day, and a Happy and Healthy New Year!!

Emily

Beni Update

Beni Update First of all, after seven months of listening for it, we were away when someone finally guessed the Chush HaNichush (Remember-- that's the part of the show where he sings a song silently in his head, and people call in to guess what he sang).  We missed the big moment, but it was a song I didn't know anyway.  And now they're on to song number three. The Final Countdown segment of the show may be over.  I didn't hear it at its regular time yesterday.  Maybe he found a song he likes better.  Or maybe he ran out of listeners who love it as much as he does.... Yesterday I heard my least favorite segment-- where he has someone famous come on and hum a song with him.  I don't usually find it particularly funny or interesting, and I usually don't know the song.  But for some reason yesterday he had two guys on, and they were from some (apparently) popular show on the kids' channel.  When he asked what they want to hum, they said, "Manumanum, from R'hov Sumsum (Sesame Street)."  First of all, I totally know that one!!  And second of all, they did an AWESOME rendition!! But most importantly, the Beni news you've all been waiting for....  Those famous guys asked what's happening with the Big Hug (where he is trying to get all the members of Knesset to participate in a big group hug), and he said it is happening at the end of October.  What a great way for them to start the year after the Holidays!!!  He says he has already 80 members, and he hopes to still bring a few more on board.  I don't know if he has reached Netanyahu or Livni yet.  I think I'll go check out the website and see if he posts stuff like that. In other news, the kids' friends are so happy to have them back, and I am very excited about the new school year.  I am excited because Abaye got the teacher I was hoping for (who is AMAZING)-- he was Shai's teacher last year), and Shai;s teacher is a friend on the kibbutz who also seems terrific.    Meanwhile, we found what seems like this really amazing music school.  It looks like a great community, and I think Tali will LOVE it.  It will be a great venue for all the music she is working so hard on (she will be studying voice and piano and attending a theory class, and she may add guitar at some point (which she has already begun teaching herself).  She will also be in a small choir, and possibly some sort of instrument ensemble down the road.  The theory, choir and ensemble come free with the lessons.  So that should keep her busy (she was worried about school being too easy...).    Adin is having so much fun with his friends and at gan.  He loves being back on schedule (gan started Sunday).  He gave out little gifts of silly bands and American chocolate, and now he is like the most popular guy there.  He is also so excited because he is a "bogair" (one of the older kids-- the gan has pre-K and K, so this year he's one of the Ks).  He says things like, "and he can borrow my hat because it will fit him because I'm a bogair!"  or "And I can help the little guys because I'm a bogair!"      I think that's about it for news from here.  Nothing interesting like earthquakes or hurricanes.  Just boring ole Israel here.  I'd love to hear back from all you East-coasters when you get your power back.... Love, Em

Singer Family Vacation Continued

Ten years ago, when we were on our way to Israel and we got accidentally stuck in London just before Shabbat with two little kids and no place to go, and we somehow magically found at the very last minute a hotel room and a sufficient amount of kosher food, but not without much fear and a few tears, Ross said then the he gets it-- that he is no longer a bachelor who can fly by the seat of his pants..  That now he is a father, and he has to be more responsible.   I felt the same way.  (Raise your hands if you have heard that story about London a million times.  Just double-checking...).

So explain to me how it happened that we thought that two overnight flights, with a 13 hour stop over in Amsterdam in between, with FOUR kids, seemed like a really cool idea.  Though I have to say, in the end, I am not sorry we did it.  That's why we fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants-ers never change.

Our flight from Houston left at 4:00 in the afternoon on Tuesday.  It was scheduled to arrive in Amsterdam at 8:00 in the morning.  Sounded perfect-- we get a good night's sleep on the plane, and get off bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to see the windmills and the dykes and the Anne Frank House.  The problem is, 4:00 PM is not exactly bed time.  When we arrived in the Amsterdam morning, it was 1:00 AM according to our bodies, and most of us hadn't slept a wink.  Just Adin for two hours..  So when we got off, all everyone wanted to do was sleep.  We were so desperate we tried to rent a hotel room in the airport, but they only had single rooms.  We tried to get drinks for the kids, but the airport only sold drinks to people with  pending flights, and our connecting flight was so far away that it wasn't on their radar.  So we sat in chairs by the security exit for awhile just because we literally couldn't put one foot in front of the other.  This was working for some, but horribly uncomfortable for others, so we decided we had to go back to plan A, and take a boat tour around the city.  It was one of those tours where you can get on and off as many times as you like, so we figured we could ride out the circuit a few times, catching some z's, and when we awoke, we could see the sights.

 As we stepped outside of the station, we discovered to our surprise, after the sweltering dry heat of Maale Gilboa, and the record-breaking temperatures of Baltimore, and the blasting humidity of Houston, that Amsterdam was cold, and also rainy.  That had just never occurred to us.  We were not prepared for this eventuality.  But we sucked it up.  No one complained too loud (because they were too tired), and we made our way to the tourist boat.  It was covered and climate controlled, and we proceeded to sleep for 3 hours.

When we purchased the ticket, the salesman explained that it was good on any of four different lines.  We could get on and off as we pleased from all four.  We knew we wanted to see the Anne Frank House, and that was only on two of the lines, so we took the first one of those that came to the station-- the red line.  When we awoke hours later,dozens of people had come on and off the boat many times, I can only imagine them staring and perhaps chuckling at the crazy Jewish family sprawled out over several benches, laden with over-stuffed carry-on bags.  I can only imagine because I was sleeping at the time.  When I awoke (before the others), I made a point to explain to newcomers that we were jet-lagged, on a layover from America.  It made me feel better to think that I could convince strangers to not think we were crazy or homeless or something.  Because hey, you never know when you will see total strangers you meet in random foreign countries again.

As I sat up, I began to take in the breathtaking scenery around me.  We were riding in the canals, along streets with exquisite brownstone buildings.  The automated guide was pointing out where the mayor lived and where the steel company had its warehouse (both storefronts in the same neighborhood and looking amazingly similar, except for the gargoyle statues on the mayor's house, and the company logo on the steel).  Along the sides of the canals were houseboats with real people living in them.  During the short circuit of the tour, we saw a tremendous range of standards of living on these boats.  Some were little run-down boxes with peeling paint on the windows, and tended flower boxes on the window sills.  Others were large and ornate, well crafted and nicely painted, and you could see things like large ornate candlesticks and fancy set tables through the windows.  When Rivital awoke, she looked around and said, "These are the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen."

Eventually we all awoke and agreed to get off at the Anne Frank House.  As I looked at the map to figure out the stop, I suddenly realized that while we were sleeping, the boat had changed routes.  We were now on the green line.  I panicked, afraid that this would be one of the boats that doesn't go to our destination, but as luck would have it, Anne Frank was the very next stop.  With a little change in plan, we decided we would scale our trip down to the Anne Frank House and a kosher restaurant, and head back to the airport.  As we stepped off the boat, we felt the driver smirking, so I explained about how we had just gotten off a sleepless flight and we were jet-lagged.  He smiled and said that makes a lot of sense.  I said, "Oh, do a lot of people do that then?"  His face went serious and he replied, "No."  We told him we were headed to the Anne Frank House, and he said, "Good luck!"

What did he mean by "Good luck?"  We had no idea, ...until we approached the Anne Frank House.  The line went out the door and around the block, extending deep into the neighboring courtyard.  This was going to be a long wait.  In the drizzling rain.  It was amazing-- no one in line looked remotely Jewish.  What were they all doing here?  The man whose job it was to say we couldn't come in with all our luggage told me that they get over a million visitors a year.  Unbelievable!  So Shai and Tali and Abaye and Ross waited on line, and an hour and a half later got to see what it was all about.  Adin and I waited outside in the drizzling rain, squeezing under a little awning when the rain fell.

By the time the guys came out of the museum, our chance for the kosher restaurant had vanished.  In fact, we had to hurry back to the boat to the train to the airport (someone should write a movie about that...).  We made our flight in plenty of time, and here we are in Israel, alive and well to tell about it.

Next year I think we'll try Paris....

Oh yeah-- I forgot to mention the very coolest thing we saw in Amsterdam-- first of all, bicycles EVERYWHERE (though not a helmet to be found), but most amazingly-- A multi-level parking garage FOR BICYCLES ONLY.  Literally-- with the winding parking garage, and all bicycles!!!!  Not to mention all the bicycle street parking where there are just heaps of them lining the streets!!  (of course, they have to come out every two hours and move them to the other side of the street for street cleaning...)  (just kidding-- Manhattan joke...). 

Shabbat Chazon

Emily's Devar Torah at Netivot Shalom, Baltimore

D’var Torah: Parashat Massei 2011



I don’t understand spectator sports.  Well, I do and I don’t.  Perhaps I understand them a little better in light of this week’s parasha and my preparations for this dvar Torah....

When I was a kid, I didn’t know the first thing about football.  But if you would have asked me who my favorite team was, I was a die-hard Eagles fan.  And a Phillies fan.  And a Flyers fan.  If they were in Philadelphia, they were my team.  On the few occasions I attended sporting events with my family, I screamed and cheered for the home team, and stomped and booed whenever our opponents did something good.  I cheered for our teams like we had some kind of connection or something in common because we all were from Philly.  Except WE were from South Jersey-- Philly was just the closest city with sports teams.  And come to think of it, the players weren’t from Philly either.  They were recruited and traded by the coaches.  They could be from anywhere.  

I wasn’t personally so invested in sports, but when we moved to Boston when I was a kid, my two brothers had intense, heated debates about whether they were supposed to remain Phillies fans or whether now they had to support the Boston Red Sox.  They both acted like their decisions were based on the merits of the actual teams and how well they played, but no one was suggesting they root for the Chicago Bears or the Baltimore Orioles.  It was clearly an issue of identity, and they were trying to figure out where their allegiances belonged. 

My mother had a more global approach to spectator sports.  She didn’t have team loyalties.  She always rooted for the underdog.  When she would come to watch our little league games, she would root for the underdogs even if they were playing against us.  She would stand next to the other moms from our team, and loudly cheer against us in favor of a particularly short and scrawny opponent who would come up to bat.  



My most exciting spectator sport experience ever was when Ross and I first moved to Vancouver in 1996.  The Houston Rockets had won the playoffs the last three years in a row.  This was a big deal for Ross, since he grew up in Houston, and he was a big fan.  Ross’ friend from High School who works for the Rockets got us tickets to see them play against the brand new Vancouver team-- the Grizzlies.  It was the Grizzlies’ first year in the league.  They were definitely the underdogs.  The game was during Ramadan, and Sharif Abdu Rahim, one of their star players, was playing while fasting, and he was amazing.  Ross was torn about who to root for, but when the little David Vancouver Grizzlies beat the big Goliath Houston Rockets, no one in the stadium could contain their excitement.  I felt so proud of our little team that could.  Proud of what, I don’t know.  Did I teach them how to play?  Did I help them train?  Did I bring them gatorade?  We hadn’t even purchased our own tickets!!  But it felt great to be a part of it.  

Was my excitement because now that I lived in Vancouver I considered myself a Vancouverite?  Was it because of my religious sympathies for Sharif Abdu Rahim?  Was it my mother’s propensity to root for the underdog?

While I felt such a part of the excitement that day, I can not understand the fervor that led to massive riots in that same city just a month and a half ago, when spectators overturned cars, looted stores, and set fires throughout the city, injuring dozens of people.  Why?  Because their beloved hockey team, the Vancouver Canucks, made it to the seventh game of the Stanley Cup, and lost.  What were they protesting? Who were they angry at?  Their team played great.  They made it to the 7th game of the Stanley Cup!  The other team just played a little better.  But somehow for these rioters, a piece of their identity was wrapped up in the success of their team, their city-- their people.  Even if their main contribution was to sit in the stands and drink beer and yell, they wanted to be a part of the winning team.  This seems to be a part of human nature.

In this week’s parasha, Bnei Yisrael are planning their entrance into the land of Israel.  The land will be divided up fairly-- larger portions for larger families and smaller portions for smaller ones.  And each  tribe will have their own region.  

The parasha concludes with the sequel to the story of Bnot Tzelofchad.  Two weeks ago in parashat Pinchas, Tzlofchad’s daughters accomplished a major legal coup when they appealed to Moshe in front of the whole people and asked for permission to inherit their father’s land.  Why did they do it?

In Parashat Pinchas, the young women ask:  

לָמָּה יִגָּרַע שֵׁם-אָבִינוּ מִתּוֹךְ מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ, כִּי אֵין לוֹ בֵּן; תְּנָה-לָּנוּ אֲחֻזָּה, בְּתוֹ אֲחֵי אָבִינוּ.


Why should our father’s name be lost to his clan, just because he he had no son?  Give us a portion among our father’s kinsmen!


It seems that their intentions had to do with preserving their father’s legacy.  Moshe, after consulting with Hashem, honors their plea and gives them their father’s inheritance.  


In this week’s parasha, leaders from their tribe complain to Moshe that this decision may impact negatively on their tribal land.  If these women inherit the land and then marry into other tribes, the land will go to those tribes..   Considering this point, Moshe devises a solution.  He rules that the women must marry only within their own tribe.  This solves both the family and tribal issues.  It seems to appease the daughters, who follow the new law without complaint.  Not exactly a 21st century solution, but it seems to make everyone happy.  


Leaving the feminist question for another time, what I want to know is, what is the big deal about protecting the integrity of the tribe?!  Aren’t we a nation?  Aren’t we a people?  Didn’t we just suffer together generations of slavery in Egypt, followed by the bonding experience of 40 years of communal survival in the desert, so we could inherit the land of our forefathers and live united under our one G-d?  Everyone’s got all the land they need.  As they intermarry, they can share lands between the new families.  This should only strengthen our peoplehood, no?  


Well, maybe not.  


The entire story of the Torah has been a process of people learning to live with each other.  In the very beginning, the first two brothers, Cane and Abel, couldn’t even manage to share the whole world between the two of them.  It was only with Jacob and his 12 sons that our ancestral family developed any sense of mutual responsibility, and only after some serious sibling rivalry issues.  


At the end of the book of Bereishit, Jacob blesses each of his sons individually, imparting to each the qualities and gifts that will define his tribe's distinct role within the people of Israel; Moshe does the same when blessing the twelve tribes at the end of the book of Devarim, on the eve of the people's entry into the Holy Land. He highlights the distinct qualities each has to offer the Jewish people.  They are all part of the whole, but with unique, individual identities.  In their travels through the desert, each tribe maintains its own leader or "prince," its own encampment in its designated place around the Tabernacle, and its own color and flag.  It would not be easy for people to see beyond these deep tribal allegiances.  Like earlier in the Torah, change would be a process.


According to the Talmud, in Baba Batra 121a, the ruling given to the daughters of Tzelofchad, that women who inherit land could only marry within their tribe, was only in effect for the first generation in the land.  Apparently, once the last of that generation were gone and the Israelites were well established, they were indeed permitted, and perhaps even encouraged, to mingle and intermarry.  Rabbi Yehuda said in the name of Rav that when the ban was first lifted, it was Tu B’Av.  It was the day when, according to the Mishna in Taanit, young women would go out to the fields and dance in white dresses to attract suitors.  The girls would exchange dresses so that each was wearing one that didn’t belong to her.  This ensured that no one would know who was rich and who was poor.  It also, perhaps, disguised their tribe of origin, thus encouraging the assimilation of the Jewish people with each other.  It was like a big premarital draft pick.


Despite the supposed mingling of the people, tribal warfare continued within Israel, and it was only going to get much worse.  While there may have been some intermarrying, some switching teams, there was still a strong sense of tribal loyalty.  


Things got really bad at the end of Sefer Shofetim, when the tribe of Benjamin  fell out of favor with the others due to their Sodom-like mistreatment of a visitor’s concubine.  While their behavior was indeed appalling, the response of the other tribes was a bit over the top.  They vowed to never marry their daughters into the tribe of Benjamin.  They then proceeded to wage war against the entire tribe of Benjamin, and to slaughter all the Benjaminite women and children.  


The other tribes subsequently regretted their harsh response.  They were sorry that because of their vow and their violent reaction, the tribe of Benjamin would soon cease to exist.  There were only men remaining, and no women who were permitted to marry them.  


In an attempt to remedy the problem they had created, the Israelites found a loophole that would enable them to save the tribe of Benjamin.  Their plan is described in Sefer Shofetim, Chapter 21.  They were not allowed to marry off their daughters to the tribe of Benjamin, but they figured that if their daughters were taken without their direct involvement, they would not be guilty of marrying them off.  


They recalled that there is a חַג-יְהוָה בְּשִׁלוֹ מִיָּמִים יָמִימָה


... a yearly festival of the Lord.  The Talmud in Baba Batra suggests that this festival was again Tu B’Av-- apparently the day of tribal mingling and reconciliation.  On that day, the Israelites instruct the Benjaminites:


וְהִנֵּה אִם-יֵצְאוּ בְנוֹת-שִׁילוֹ לָחוּל בַּמְּחֹלוֹת, וִיצָאתֶם מִן-הַכְּרָמִים, וַחֲטַפְתֶּם לָכֶם אִישׁ אִשְׁתּוֹ מִבְּנוֹת שִׁילוֹ; וַהֲלַכְתֶּם, אֶרֶץ בִּנְיָמִן.



They tell them to hide out in the vineyards near Shiloh, and when they see girls coming out to dance, they should grab them for wives and bring them back to the land of Benjamin.  

While this story highlights divisions between the tribes, we see in the end a sort of national loyalty.  It is a story of tribal warfare, but one where in the end, the nation did not want to see one tribe totally disappear. 



The daughters of Tzlofchad were originally looking out for the honor of their father.  They were then willing to compromise regarding who they were allowed to marry for the sake of their tribe.  Ultimately, the law that was designed to protect the tribal estate gave way to a custom meant to encourage national unity.  Why is the family and community loyalty so important?  Who cares on what land everyone would live, as long as they were provided for?  Why couldn’t they just see themselves as part of Am Yisrael?  

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks addresses this question by recalling the universalistic philosophy of the Enlightenment.  He explains that philosophers believed, as many still do today, that the more universal we are, the more advanced we are.  We demonstrate our progress and our sophistication through our universal attachments to humanity.  

Rabbi Sacks highlights the absurdity of this simplistic view by quoting the famous Enlightenment philosopher Montesquieu, who said:

"I would be wrong if I preferred my children to the citizens of my town. I would be wrong if I preferred my fellow citizens of the town to the citizens of France, and I would be wrong if I preferred my fellow citizens of France to my fellow citizens of the universe."


Rabbi Sacks recalls the story of the Tower of Babel.  He argues that when G-d sees the people with a common language and  a common goal building their tower, G-d rejects this notion of the universal human civilisation.  God says "No". That is not human. That is ultimately inhuman. At that point, God comes in, intercedes, takes away their language and, from that moment, humanity is divided into a multiplicity of languages, faiths, cultures, civilizations. Diversity.  It what Rabbi Sacks refers to as the Dignity of Difference, and it’s a good thing.  


When the Jewish people began to intermingle and intermarry among the tribes, this was progress.  Today, when we see Jews from different cultures, Ashkenazim and Sephardim, Ethiopians, Russians, Americans and Israelis, choosing to marry each other, we see this as progress. At the same time, we acknowledge the tremendous value of the preservation of all of these different cultures within our people.  


As we approach Tisha B’Av, when we will mourn the loss of the unity of our people over baseless hatred, let us reflect on how we can honor and celebrate each other’s differences.  


And when we approach Tu B’Av, let us celebrate together all we have in common.  Let us celebrate our diversity together as one people.

It's a Singer Family Vacation

Does it count as an aliyah update if I write about our trip to America?

Singer Family Vacation Rule #1:  If we are purchasing traveller's insurance, we like to get our money's worth. 

 So we made sure to squeeze in our first trip to Patient's First before Shabbat.  Suspected broken foot (but it wasn't).  3 days later, Abaye's doing fine (though we are the proud owners of yet another set of crutches.  Is that really something we should need to PURCHASE?  Anyone want them?)

Meanwhile, Shai is throwing up at Ben's house.  Or he was a few hours ago.  When I went to get him he was sleeping.   Frankly, he's probably better off over there in a house with 2 doctors.  I should send all the kids on over there.  I told Ben's mom that if I still lived here I would insist on taking home so he wouldn't throw up on her furniture, but that we are staying at the Dennens, so it's either her furniture or theirs.  For me it's kind of a wash (no pun intended).  But I was VERY happy to help move him from the leather couch to the blow-up plastic mattress with sheets.  

On my way over there, Rivital (who is staying at Jenny's) called to tell me that she forgot her toothbrush at the Dennens and her laptop charger at the (other) Singers.  I told her she will have to take a number.  Bless her maturing heart, she totally understood.  In fact, she sounded really concerned about Shai.  She said I can take care of her chaufeuring needs tomorrow.  (Aaron, wipe that smug "I told you you would need a car" grin off your face right now!!)  Oh, and Rabbi Wohlberg (if you're out there), thanks for letting us use the BT car!

Singer Family Rule #2: Never (and I mean NEVER) be prepared-- no matter what the damn boy scouts tell you!!

That's why, since I made sure to have our passports and tickets and boarding passes and teudot maavar (like Israeli passports), I arranged to have my drivers license expire.  I planned way advance, having it expire 3 months ago.  Meaning, I suddenly realized (literally on the last flight) that I've been driving around Israel without any kind of drivers license for the past 3 months.  (If you are an Israeli law enforcement professional, I'm just kidding).  

So I spent my first day here (after a good night's sleep) in the DMV (or whatever they're calling it these days).  And of course Laura, who arrived the night before from Eastern Europe, and who has nothing better to do (except take care of her 4 kids, write her PhD dissertation, prepare for teaching in the fall, and plan her upcoming JOFA scholars conference, not to mention preparing for Sunday's big Frank Family Sesame Place extravaganza) drove me there and waited with me.  Though I have to say, the wait was shockingly short, and they literally handed me my completed license as I was sitting there filling out the forms for it.  

So that segues us into Sesame Place, where wet fun was had by all.  We saw all the familiar sites-- The Duckie Slide, The Rambling River, Elmo's World, Abby Caddaby, and men sporting T-shirts with the F-word pushing double strollers.  Many of the clientele had clearly visited the Grover tattoo and piercing booth several times (though we never actually saw the booth itself).

Rivital was being so sweet with her cousin Julia that I wanted to do something special for them, so even though I knew it was going to be grossly overpriced, I told her to take Julia and I would pay for them to get hair wraps.  It was not until they were already wrapped that Rivital realized that this was going to cost...... 

are you ready?.............

Last chance to toss out your guesses.........

SIXTY FIVE DOLLARS!!!!!!!

Seriously.

Rivital hadn't realized because they charged by the inch.  The cost was only $2.   Per inch....

The silver lining (which is actually huge) was that Tali handled it really well.  She came up to me and opened with "Now don't be mad."  She continued with "The wraps cost more than I realized, but don't worry.  I am going to pay for them myself."  I asked how much and she told me.  As I was scooping the bits of my jaw off of the street outside Hoover's Store, Tali reiterated not to worry because she was paying.  It seemed that she was mistaking my uncontrollable, uproarious laughter for anger.  Or perhaps psychosis.  I told her that I had said I would buy the wraps, and I would.  She said (I LOVE this part), "Thanks, but I really think I should pay for at least half!"  I was so impressed that I told her she should go back and get another one.  OK-- no I didn't.  But that would have made a great ending....

Singer Family Rule Number Three:  Take advantage of coed bathrooms.

The Dennens took Adin and me out to Maggie Moos (which if you can't figure it out, is an ice cream store).  All the kids (3 Dennen girls and Adin) have to go to the bathroom.  They are waiting and  waiting at the door.  It is locked and no one is coming out.  Finally, Lew is sure there is no one in there, and asks the girl who works there to unlock the door.  As she opens the door, before you can say "Maggie Moos" or even "Moo," all 4 kids have piled in, and with the door wide open and in full view of all the patrons, Adin has already started to pee.  And we are laughing so hard we can't breathe.  

I'm tired and out of rules, and I anticipate a long fast day tomorrow full of shlepping, so I had better run.  But if I think of any more, I'll let you know.  G'nite!

Love,

Em

Parashat Pinchas