All that husband bashing was just harmless venting, right?
H
ey, can you send me the recipe for the salmon salad that you served on Shabbos? Rivky said it was amazing, and I need some new app ideas.
I paused in the cereal aisle as I read the text, a smile playing at my lips. We had the Schonbrenners and the Kleins for lunch this past Shabbos, and in my opinion, I totally brought my A-game with the menu. Nice to hear Rivky Schonbrenner agreed —she’s a really good cook herself. If my neighbor Chavi was asking, Rivky must have given her a full report.
Hey Chavs! Sure thing. Sending you the link, I jotted back as I dropped a box of Cinnamon Life into my cart.
We’d moved into our young community a year and a half ago. “Young-ish community” is actually what I usually called it. There was a range of ages, but not too big of one, and a nice mix of families who were similar enough in terms of hashkafah. There were backyards and front yards and side yards, and most incredibly of all, an eiruv. In other words: bliss. There were teenagers around to babysit and corner parks full of kids; plus, my sister Raizy lived only a 20-minute drive away.
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