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Ezr the Dream-Traveller: Chapter 3: Just a Day

March 22, 2013

Chapter 3: Just a Day

Sometime during the rest of the night, Ruchama discovered that she was alone. She does not like to be alone at Aba’s. She mustn’t have cried too much, because Aba didn’t wake up. At least not until we all woke up for religious school in the morning. Ruchama took up half the bed, I took up a third, and Aba fell out of bed when the alarm went off. One half plus one third equals five-sixths. Ask Aba. Or just eat a six-slice pizza. What’s obvious is that the littlest person ate up half the space, and Aba is a Daddy – he just accommodated us even while blowing “Z’s.”  Aba doesn’t curse much; when I would expect him to plant an F-bomb, if it’s something that happened to him he will say, “Doink!” If it’s situational, he’ll say SSShhhhhhA-ving cream! Then we’ll sing, “Be nice and clean! SShhhhhAVE every day and you’ll always feel keen!”

So he “doink”-ed his way up, and, seeing that his tumble had woken us up, he vaulted Ruchama, landed between us, and while pivoting on the bed to scoop Ru up, he slipped an arm behind my head and announced, “Group hug!” We had yogurt and strawberries for breakfast. We went to religious school, and Aba played with Ru while I went to class. I totally forgot about the nightmare. It didn’t affect the rest of our day. We took to the trails up in MontgomeryCounty, at the FortWashington day use area.  We had Aba’s camera, but no memory card, so we could only take twelve shots home with us. The keepers? Me in the Wissahickon Creek with my remote control truck in hand, under a foot bridge. Ru climbing a tree all on her own. Ru’s picture of the bridge and stone trail cabin, taken from up in the tree (My sister, the spider monkey shutter bug. Shutter monkey?), one of Aba’s geometric studies with tree falls framing a boulder in the creek. The pic I took of Ru in the tree, and the one where Aba climbed up and joined her. Finally, one where Ru was taking a picture of Aba and I jumped on him from behind!

Since it was Passover, we had a picnic of fruit and a matza brie that I never thought possible. You need to know that I love cheese. Not just pizza; every kid loves pizza. And if you’re a grown-up reading this book, you probably love pizza, too. But I’m talking about buttery, smooth, melt-in-your-mouth cheese. Stinky, crumbly, sharp crumble-it-on-your-salad-with-cranberries-and-walnuts cheese. Sniff-it-before-you-taste-it cheese. Savor it while it melts cheese. Aba had a little money, and just before Passover, he took us to the Wedge + Fig restaurant in OldCity. He bought some cheeses I picked out, but I forgot about. The holiday, and Spring Break, will do that to you. So was I ever surprised when Aba unpacked the savory Danish melt-in-your-mouth white cheese with fermented hops and an unpronounceable name, fried into a matza brie and served with pomegranate preserves! After a nice five-mile hike, there could have been nothing better!

That night, my only dreams were about cheeses with “ijk’s” and “ǿ’s” in their names.

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