My Girl

Shoshi and Rachel

Taken during a service at The Temple
(Courtesy: Josh Herman)

Fighting Words

Rachel spotted some plastic swords in one of the aisles at Kroger today and challenged me to a duel. She explained that she still loved me, but the rules dictated she had to say something bad to me as we fought.

"Take that, you old coot!" she exclaimed.

I still have no idea where she heard that one!

Batter Up or Battered Up?

The weather has turned nicer and Rachel and I are spending more time playing outside. Sometimes we kick around a soccer ball in the cul de sac. Other times we play baseball.

Rachel has a plastic ball and an adorable little Hello Kitty bat. If I swing the bat hard enough, I can feel it bending. It almost feels as if there is a tube of cardboard inside.

When we first started practicing, Rachel insisted on swinging righthanded. At some point, I persuaded her to try lefthanded, since she writes with her left hand. She seemed to have a more natural swing from that side and lately, she's made solid contact more often.

Of course, being six, you can only swing so long before you get bored. Rachel has taken a liking to standing on her mini-trampoline and using it as home plate. It took me a little while to adjust and throw my underhand pitches a little higher to adapt to her new strike zone.

So we're out there playing the other day and I'm thinking, "What creative idea can I come up with to make this fun?"

Then the answer became clear. Spread around the tree in our front yard were fossilized Dunkin Donuts Munchkins my wife had tossed from her car. She had thrown them out in the grass for the birds. I'm not sure what the birds were supposed to do with them. They had hardened to the point of becoming round doorstops that might be painful to the average beak.

And I'm thinking, "Well,they are round. They are smaller than the baseball and it might be a good test of her eye/hand coordination." So I put down the plastic baseball and started chunkin' Munchkins.

To my amazement, Rachel started making solid contact. Maybe she just sees food better. If so, she comes by it naturally. The Munchkins were so hard, they didn't even fly apart when they were swatted.

I knew enough that I didn't intend to find out how much they hurt if one flew right at me. I could see that a Munchkin flew a long way when the bat hit it just right. As a friend of mine said when I told her about it a day or two later, "Yeah, the Wicked Witch of the West pretty much thought the same thing!"

Oh, That Right Leg!

I admit it. I have a thing for Entertainment Weekly. The writing is creative and there is a certain degree of snarkiness at times. I am myself creative and occasionally snarky. It is a good match.

Unfortunately, it recently caused a problem. I was reading the magazine as I walked into a Chili's and let go of the door as I walked in. The door was heavy and Rachel was unable to hold it. She fell to the ground and skinned her knee slightly.

Rachel was dressed prettily in a summer dress and black patent leather shoes and for some reason, that made me feel even worse. I ushered her to a metal bench outside and rubbed her back and embraced her until the tears dried up.

After we were seated, we asked for a bandaid. They brought a pretty blue one and it was affixed to the afflicted knee.

Right about the time I finished my lunch, Rachel whispered that she needed to go to the bathroom and asked that I accompany her. I slid off the wooden bench onto the tile floor.

With what seemed to be a herculean effort, Rachel moved glacially toward the end of the bench. She slid onto the floor, right leg rigidly beneath her as she favored her left side and limped toward the bathroom.

I allowed her to get in front of me as I raised my right fist to suppress the smile on my face. She was limping on the wrong leg! And the Oscar goes to.....

Tinkerbell

Imagine my delight to accompany my daughter to a "Princess" themed birthday party last weekend. Actually, it made sense. The girl turning six was named Ariel. She's an absolute angel. When Rachel gets upset in school, Ariel rubs her back until she feels better. So we were going to this party. And since mom was teaching Sunday school, dad was delivering Rachel.

It was a fun party. I enjoyed hanging with the adults and there were yummy fresh veggies and watermelon. I was hungry, since I had just gotten off work, so it was much appreciated.

At some point, word began to spread like wildfire that Tinkerbell was on her way. There was high-pitched screaming. Somewhere, dogs turned in unison, trying to figure out who was calling them and why. Little girls and the two boys who were there stood vigilant by the second floor window, waiting for the first glimpse.

And then, the big moment! Tinkerbell drove up in a PT Cruiser. The kids were still excited, but they had questions. Why hadn't Tinkerbell arrived via air?
Tinkerbell explained she flew into town and then transferred into a car. Apparently, fairies don't come equipped with GPS.

Then out of nowhere, my own daughter, who had never shared this information with us, exclaimed, "The tooth fairy's not real. It's your parents!" The rest of the girls and boys straightened her out and Rachel dropped the subject. Thankfully.

Tinkerbell began making balloon animals. Kids jostled to get in front of one another. They asked what it was like to be a fairy. Rachel apparently was pondering being a fairy as a career choice when she asked Tinkerbell, "How many parties do you go to a day, Tinkerbell?"

A bit later, Tinkerbell was painting faces and hands and some child blurted, "Tinkerbell, I hear your name is really Julie!" All these kids needed were cameras. It was like they were pint-sized paparazzi working for TMZ.com. Tinkerbell managed to divert the conversation by insisting she was Tinkerbell, period. Like Madonna and Cher, some gals need just one name.

Tinkerbell left after an hour and a half, a hard-earned eighty dollars tucked away inside her purse inside her PT Cruiser, no doubt muttering, "I gotta find another line of work!"

Passover

We are now in the second day of Passover and you can pretty much tell where I've sat at work by the matzah crumbs on the carpet. It's impossible to eat matzah without making a mess.

I went to a couple of seders this year, one at Rachel's school and the other at the house of friends. Rachel had three passages to read at the classroom service and she was nervous about them, though I can tell you proudly that she nailed them and was one of the best readers in the class, in my not so humble opinion.

There was one section of the service where two girls placed a doll in a basket, representing Moses, onto a blue cloth held by the boys and girls in the class. It was to symbolize his mother casting him along the water to avoid the plague of the first-born. Of course, boys will be boys. The boys in the class immediately tried to capsize Moses, while the girls, including my daughter, being nurturing, did not find it funny at all.

There was one chuckle for me. As the Israelites were urged to teach the ways of
G-D "dilgently upon their children", I heard my daughter say "diligently UNTIL your children." Once you have kids, it's apparently all out the window.

All in all, it was enjoyable although Rachel's music teacher didn't know the hand gestures Rachel and Rebecca put together in the rewrite of the Kingsmen's "Louie Louie" to fit the Passover story. "Pharaoh, Pharaoh....oh oh--let my people go now....."

Two nights later, we went to our friends' Bob and Francesca's house for seder. Rachel did us proud. When asked what Passover was about, she answered correctly and when it came time for the Four Questions, she sang proudly. It touches my heart to see how my child is learning.

After the traditional meal, the children are to hunt for a hidden matzah and since Rachel was the only child present, it was pretty much a certainty she'd find it and claim her prizes, which she did. Francesca's mother gave her a Fancy Nancy book with stickers and Francesca and Bob gave her what looked like some yummy chocolate.

Rachel loves chocolate and comes by her addiction naturally. She peeled off the wrapper and was told nopt to eat it all at once. Then to my amazement, she continued to break off pieces of chocolate, distributing them to the other eight people around the table, until all the chocolate was gone.

She then retired to the family room to watch the Noggin Children's Channel on Satellite Channel 64. I told her that we didn't have that channel at home. She insisted we did, because channel 64 on our cable tv system is Nickelodeon. I wasn't about to get into a discussion of cable versus satellite tv, so taking a cue from Pharoah, I let it go.

Lost In Translation

Rachel has been telling us she wants a sibling. Unfortunately, because I waited so long to pop the question to her mother, that probably won't happen, unless we go the adoption route.

Rebecca has also talked to her about it, but apparently, something got lost in the translation. Rebecca told Rachel that in order for there to be even a chance for a brother or sister, she needs to let her parents get more sleep.

I was completely lost the other day when Rachel told me that we "need to let mommy sleep, so she can wake up with a baby and maybe this time, she'll hurt." (Rebecca has told Rachel that she had an easy pregnancy with her.)

Apparently, my assistance isn't needed this time!

The Feeling Is Mutual

Rachel just finished writing a book "My First Year in Kindergarten." I think the biggest surprise was at the end. She wrote "I like candy. I love mom and dad." Truth be told, I was relieved the seeding didn't go the other way.

On The Other Hand.....

...I was reclining on the couch the other day, exhibiting truly bad posture, when Rachel pointed to my stomach and said, "Dad, you're kind of fat."

I can't tell you how hurt and po'ed I was. It was actually one of those, "Rebecca! You need to watch your daughter for a while" moments.