Of Kittens and Counting  

I back away, tripping over the small stool we had dragged out to the succah earlier. I stop when I’ve reached the succah wall and can back away no more.

“Get that thing away from me,” I say, trying — and failing — to keep my voice from shaking.

Mendy stalks toward me, hand outstretched. I shriek until Mommy comes onto the porch to see what’s going on, bringing with her the tantalizing scents of baking challah.

“Why are people screaming?” she asks, wiping her hands on a towel.