Four meals. Four more meals. Four meals bearing absolutely no resemblance to the four from the first days. And some guests are repeat customers,
JUST ONE It has always been my fantasy to have one male relative¬— no matter how distantly related¬— who dances and sings with gusto on Simchas Torah. You know the type: belts out song after song not necessarily on key. Flies high as he horahs to the right twirling and leaping and generally making a huge spectacle of himself. (Sigh.) If only… (Illustrations: Vivi Keilson)
“O f course you can come back for the second days!” I exclaim trying to keep my voice from quavering. “You know how much I’d love to watch the kids dancing with the Torah!”
The phone conversation abruptly ends when a child grabs the phone from his mommy and starts pressing buttons temporarily deafening me in one ear.
I spoon two heaps of dark roast coffee into a huge mug emblazoned with the word GULP add sweetener hot water and milk and plop down into a kitchen chair ready to tally up the guests for the second days of Succos: three of the girls and their husbands two handfuls of lively juvenile characters Aunt Tzaitel and her aide Svetlana plus our old friend Roger from Syracuse.
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