Summer homework

You people need to pay attention. I’ve received more than one statement and/or complaint from people who are apparently not making sufficient effort to stay current with my blog. This leads to confusion on their parts, for which they end up blaming me.

Boys and girls: I sometimes post a bunch of times per day. Sometimes I come back and update posts that were posted earlier. You need to check back more than once, or else scroll down and make sure you haven’t missed anything. Also, look at the date. If I post something late at night and you don’t see it until the next day, and the post talks about stuff that happened “today,” don’t call me all confused because you think it happened the day you read it. Look at the date it was posted. Pay attention.

Sheesh.

Anyway, I’ve divided some of the stuff that’s taken place since the summer began (yesterday) into categories/disciplines. Here it is.

Quantitative

G: 101.9

YS: 101.2

RS: 99.9

(that was as of 8:00 this morning)

2 sick cooped up girls + 8 overripe bananas = 39 muffins

(don’t be deceived; they’re not that good )

Music

When YS woke up with a fever this morning, bringing the grand total of feverish people in my house up to three, I thought to myself “Another one bites the dust.” Then of course the song was sort of in the back of my head as I went about everyone’s business. Then on the way to camp, we listened to this hilarious CD of chasidishe music until we all got sick of it (didn’t take very long); then we listened to Lev Tahor; then, after I dropped the girls off, I turned on the (shh) radio. And what do you think was playing?

“Another One Bites the Dust.”

Bizarre, that was. It’s not like that song is on every day. I can’t remember the last time I heard it. I’m pretty sure this means… um…

I don’t know what it means. But it has to mean something. Like for example, during my senior year of high school, every time Roxette’s “Joyride” came on, it was a sign that a certain young man, thoughts of whom occupied a disproportionate number of my brain waves, liked me (he actually did like me; that’s proof that radio signs are real, see?). And one night a few years ago I was randomly thinking about my Grandma F while driving, and I turned on the radio and a booming voice said “If you suffer from [x], you might be eligible to participate in a study using an experimental drug!” Psst: Grandma F died from an experimental drug for that very same disease.

This, of course, meant that Grandma F’s spirit was with me in the car. Spoooooo-ky.

So I heard “Another One Bites the Dust” on the radio, for the first time in eons. Normally this would remind me of camp, specifically of the night in 1990 when a bunch of us got thrown into the sink with the dirty dishwater (I was the ONLY one who didn’t go running, screaming, directly to the shower afterwards, but stuck around to help finish the dishes). Every time the rascals threw another one of us in, they’d play that song, see. So now hearing the song is going to remind me of that, AND of the time the radio gods played it, just for me, when the third member of my family caught whatever dumb virus this is.

Mechanics

The front door lock is broken. It won’t unlock (why should it; that lock is already an entire year old). The carpool girls had to go around to the back in order to get in. Not to be daunted, I heroically went outside and got it open with the key. Wonder what it will cost to get that fixed?

Philosophy

As we drove to camp, I heard R and the carpool girls discussing the fact that the clouds were touching the sky. This led to R and the older carpool girl explaining to the younger one that things can’t touch the sky, because the sky doesn’t end. This led to the following set of statements by R:

It never stops. There’s nothing that’s the sky. Outer space never stops. It’s so hard to imagine! We can’t understand it. The only one who can understand it is Hashem, but it’s so hard for us to believe. It’s also so hard to believe that Hashem has no beginning and no end. Everthing has to have a beginning, and everything has to have an end! But Hashem has no beginning and no end! It’s so hard to understand!

This from the child who, about two weeks ago, was playing some sort of game with her hands, and then looked up at me and said “I wonder how it feels to be fingers.”

I confess that I myself have never wondered about that.

Tags: Kids