"God, you look SO ISRAELI" gushed a friend of mine, my blonde hair gone and in its place the color red. She had collected some money for our upcoming wedding as things were looking bleaker and bleaker, and I sat in her car and burst into tears - not because of the fact that she thought I looked Israeli but because I was touched by her generosity and ashamed of my neediness.
Friday morning I met my ex-Criminal daughter. I had just enough money to get into town. I cashed another $30 check and put down a deposit on a dress we found for her for the wedding. I did attempt to pay with my credit card, but it was refused and I put down $25 for it, and introduced yet another Jerusalem store to the American retail tradition of lay-away.
The day didn't start off normally to begin with. I forgot that my son had school and neglected to wake him up. Ooops. Anyway he suffered a bad sunburn so we can tell his teachers that he was in pain that day. He told me that nearly every day he gets woken up by a fly buzzing around his head.
"OH, that's my assistant, Freddy the fly" I told him. So my daily telephone calls to his cellphone nor the alarm clock are not what prompts him to wake up -it's the fly. I thought I'm not killing any more of those if they're going to help me with him.
Saturday we lounged around and the Complainer's boyfriend the "Son of Mafia Mom" -'redid' my computer so it would download stuff faster and in the process, erased all my e-mails,and internet favorites. But I don't DARE complain. To compensate, he invited us all to his cousin's villa where there is a private pool and the house is empty because they're in the process of selling it. He threw a lit cigarette butt over the balcony.
"What if there's someone walking under the place where you threw the lit ciggie butt?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders and laughed when I told him he was just like Complainer's dad who, when we had a dog, shovelled up some dog shit on our terrace and threw it over the railing instead of tossing it into a wastebin, like normal people do.
I felt like a million bucks lying around the private pool with my kids and this guy. He gathered up the trash, took stuff from me so I wouldn't have to carry anything and when we neared the trash bin across the street, he threw the plastic bag of trash, hitting the trash bin on the side and scaring the local cats, not bothering to walk it over and putting the trash inside the bin, like decent people do. But I don't DARE complain...
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Mafia son
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