Hidden Assets

We were back.

We were the stereotypical young couple, arriving “home” from Eretz Yisrael with cute matching luggage a day after Rosh Chodesh Nissan.

We were the young couple who set up camp in my parents’ guest suite, coming in through the private basement entrance but spending most of the day in the thick of the pre-Pesach action upstairs, which basically meant helping my mother flop a whole bunch of miracle-based cakes.

We were the young couple meeting up with our besties and telling them all about how special it was to literally walk on the same ground as the Avos Hakedoshim.

I recounted our near-death chavayah to Zissi while we waited for our steaks. “So we were walking home from the Kosel Friday night, all innocently, and don’t ask me how — both of us had walked this route hundreds of times as singles — but suddenly we were, like, in the Arab neighborhood.”