“You’re the worst Tatty ever.” Avrumi kept quiet. Tzvi scowled
“Im not wearing it!” Tzvi burst through our bedroom door, threw a green and blue something in the air, and flung himself onto my bed. He grabbed at his shirt.
“What’s wrong, Tzvik’ele?” I rushed to him and sat beside his prone body.
“It’s itchy and I can’t move and I can’t breathe.”
Yup, newly starched shirt, first time he’s wearing a tie and, oh yes, he’s mildly sensory. Why did I think it was a good idea to buy him new clothes for this shul Shabbaton?
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