This week, oy vey, has been kurtser prolog tsu a lange drame (a short prologue to a long drama). Did I mention it’s only Thursday, in the very early, dark hours of morning? So far, we have had too many fits of tsuris (troubles and woes). Here, I share only two of them… I’m certain the others will find their way to you soon.
- My Big, oh how I love this madelah (sweet little girl), such a tender, sensitive soul, just like my Mrs. The other day, she realizes with some excitement, that another tooth in front has become wiggly, jiggly. The top two have been missing since early spring and maybe, just maybe, one of them is budding through the surface. The very small chiclet just next to the gaping hole, it teeters just a bissel (little). In my classic ‘glass half full’ style, I talk about readying for the pending tooth fairy visit. I even channel grandpa from Hotel Transylvania 2, and comment how she is a “late-fanger, just like Dennisovich.” My Little, she laughs. Big, she becomes nervous and taken in by the pain that may occur at some point, may not. The tears, they pour like a river. The moans, academy award winning whimpers these are! And mittendrinnen (just in the middle), we are struggling through making our best effort at dinnertime (see post about mealtime).
The Mrs. and I, we attempt to soothe the suffering with little success. The food hurts. The water hurts. The tongue in her mouth hurts. Little, she offers up an ice pack to chew on. I whisper to the Mrs., “I think for this one, I should get the crutches, nu?” After the piercing screams of anguish dust settles, she eats. We eat. And that Little, she whispers to us both, “Try not to remind her about her tooth tonight.”
Wink, wink, nod.
Matt and Brooke, who live right below us here at the Manor, please accept this blog post as an open apology for the noise. We feel your pain too!
- Next up, Wednesday morning at work, I get a frantic call from the Mrs. She has lost her wallet. Have I seen it? Please note: I am not at all alarmed at this point. My Mrs., she misplaces things. Her iPhone, her keys, her credit card. It is not her fault. There is a genetic marker on her very DNA strand, aligned with both her mother and her sister – a truly unfair predisposition to the mis-placement of important items. Latin name, vitalgoneastrayitis. They suffer.
We retrace her steps. Together, we realize she has not reached for her wallet since Sunday. Three days ago. This news makes my inner frugalista do the happy dance at work, right in the conference room a little bit happy. That is a big mitziah (huge honking deal). After she and the kinder (kids) toss the house like the feds searching for Hillary’s emails and come up empty, we talk again. We narrow it down to the only two places on earth it must be: The movies or the diner. Now, I am staying very calm, while visualizing the process of recovering our soon to be, or already stolen identities. Poor schleps (fools), when they realize who they are stealing from, oy vey. Pick someone a little more moneyed, wontcha? Little, in the midst of the madness, gets all of her hard earned gelt (cash), and offers it to a very upset Mrs. These kids are just too sweet for words. Such nachas (joy) they give me.
She calls the diner, gornischt (nothing). Simultaneously, I am preparing a gentle and composed catalogue of all the places, people and institutions she will need to call in order to make this right in the world, within the next 5 to seven minutes. She dials the Plymouth Meeting AMC Mega-Metro Movie theatre, where we saw Pete’s Dragon (such a wonderful movie!). Would you believe, she finds a person, not a recording? She asks, they answer (cue the band). Whoever cleaned the theatre after the 3:30 pm show, found her wallet, fully intact, and placed it in the lost-and-found. A real mensch (truly a good-hearted person) in the midst! We are sending a gift once we find the name of our hero!
Oy, how I can go on… But for now, let’s all rest easy knowing all is temporarily in good stead. A bei gezunt (may health be with you)!