Wow, if weeks could have a theme in real life and not just in sitcoms, this week’s would be “The Lost Boys.”
I swear to you, I don’t court drama. But between our neighbours’ taken-away foster kid, the kid with cancer, and then, today, a random invitation to lunch to observe the deathiversary (English-date yahrzeit?) of a friend’s 10-year-old (brain cancer, 28 years ago)… well, the drama is finding me.
And then I get home late tonight (from a wonderful amateur production of Cabaret), and Ted wants to tell me all the unholy pursuits one of our children has been pursuing on the computer and I just DO NOT want to hear it. I want to make challah, plan Shabbos, fold laundry, go to bed.
(It’s already midnight and very little of the above list is accomplished just yet.)
I just want to keep my boys safe. Besides the cast, I mean. A cast, a minor break, that’s okay; I’ll take that, sure. It’s the big stuff that’s scary. Please keep my boys safe. And girls. Oh, and keep their socks up (the girls’). That’s important: socks.
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