Welcome to Jerusalem

One young reader of this blog arrived in Jerusalem for the first time. It was the first time she had ever been on a plane as well. She e-mailed me and I was trying to decipher the cryptic messages about "essex girl types" hassling her at customs. This is a British thing and I'm usually quite knowledgeable about British terms like "lift, lorry, fag, knickers, poof, tart, sod, wanker", etc. but totally not familiar with this one.

Hubby decided to come along to meet her at Jaffa Gate. I told him that it's not like meeting a member of the Rolling Stones Undercover e-mail list. That list is total family. You don't know who is commenting on your blogs from anywhere in the world. But when I heard her voice on the phone, my instincts told me it's ok.

I guess she was equally as nervous meeting us for the first time as we basically told her we're gonna drive her around Jerusalem for a quickie tour.

"You're not gonna dump me off somewhere?"

"What and have 1 less reader of the blog?" Nah. We're civil, even if it doesn't come across so in my writings.

We went to see the panoramic view of Jerusalem from the Sherover Promenade and went to have a bite to eat in picturesque Ein Karem. Hubby was quite animated and nice. He wasn't acting the Caveman bit at all, and I was getting worried that she would think that everything she read about was a lie. A total lie. Hubby was charming, talkative and a real man-about-town. I wanted our guest over for life,if he was gonna act like that around her. Sheesh. Feeling I have more to gain than lose, I invited her for dinner with the family. Reluctant at first, she finally accepted the invite. I insisted that Hubby tell her he really can get awful and that I'm not exaggerating when I write about the family. He told her "Yup - I can get that way." But I don't think she believed that. He was so fucking charming.

A bit of paranoia crept in when our guest went to the bathroom.

"Do you think she's looking through our meds??" Hubby asked me.

"Really. Our MEDS? What the fuck do we have in there anyway? A bit of aspirin, some Rennies for heartburn and antibiotics that are probably out of date. Oh and a few bars of soap. No quaaludes, no prozac, no viagara, nothing interesting at all in that cabinet. Why are you worried???"

I'm telling you, it's the weed.

At dinner Hubby turned into Father Knows Best. The most wonderful dad anyone would want to have. He even stayed up until 2:00 am with all of us, and our guest slept over in the end because it was too late for her to go wandering back into the Old City by herself. My 17 year old didn't put on a show, though, and complained bitterly throughout the meal, about the food, about the way the house looked, and a few other things. I was all excited that at least one person was not playing it "nice" and pointed to her while shouting to our guest.

"THAT'S the Complainer!!! THAT's the Complainer!!!" - Yes. Our guest finally gets to meet all the Characters in our family in the flesh. What a laugh.