On a String

I’m jealous of Kayla, the teenager who babysits until Shua comes back from night seder.

She walks in, goes straight to the corner of the dining room, and peers at the lollipop earrings drying on the shelf.

“Whoa, Mrs. Green. I think these are your best yet!”

I offer her a tired smile.

“I’m not joking! I can take one picture of these and send them to my sister-in-law, she’ll Whatsapp them to the universe and boom — you’ll have a business.”