“S
hoshie! Where are you?!”

Oh, no! I quickly stuffed my book under my pillow and rushed back to the kitchen. “Right here, Kaila,” I responded tremulously as I picked up the peeler. The mound of potatoes seemed to have grown in my absence.

“Where have you been? You should have finished by now, you know I’m waiting to make the kugel!”

“I needed something from my room, if you don’t mind! And you can start grating the potatoes that are already peeled, or… hey, I have a novel idea! You can peel some yourself if you’re so anxious!”

“Uh huh, what a surprise, trying to shirk your job, as usual! Well, too bad! No way will I pick up the slack just because you can’t manage to do the little bit Mommy assigned you!”

“Little bit?! I have this whole mountain of potatoes to peel! I’d switch with you and make the kugel instead any day!”

“I’ll have you know I get assigned to make the kugel because everyone likes the way I make it. And for your information, I already polished the leichter. Would you rather have had that job? Oh, yes, I seem to remember that you had that job and it didn’t work out so well.”

I blushed, remembering the leichter disaster. Bubby had called and asked to speak with me before I’d rubbed off the polish and, big surprise, I forgot to go back to finish the job. When Eli got ready to set up the leichter he didn’t notice the left-behind polish, and he held them against his shirt. Well… I ended up ironing another shirt for him ten minutes before Shabbos.

What could I answer Kaila when she’s… right?

Ouch! It’s never a good idea to peel potatoes when you’re angry! I was so furious, and groping so desperately for a good comeback, that I wasn’t exactly focused on controlling that sharp blade. In fact, I’d forgotten that I was even holding it. No big surprise; that’s the story of my life.

“Oh, Shoshie!” Kaila handed me a paper towel. “Wow, that cut looks nasty, and it’s all my fault! Ugh, be careful not to get blood on the potatoes! It looks like I’ll be finishing the peeling after all, and it serves me right! I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time.” Kaila really is a pretty cool sister, even if we do fight sometimes.

“No, Kaila, you were right, as usual. I just can’t seem to stay focused or on task or whatever, but it isn’t fair for you to have to pick up the pieces.”

“Well, no point harping on it now. That gash really does look nasty. I think we’d better call Tante Michal.”

Our Tante Michal is a pretty busy PA but she doesn’t work Friday mornings so she can prepare Shabbos — and respond to her nieces’ emergencies, I guess, because she showed up 15 minutes after I called carrying her medical bag in one arm and baby Tova in the other.

“Hmm,” she said, examining my finger, while I held Tova on my lap. “It’s a bit deep. Let me call your mom and then we’ll decide what to do.” Moments later my mother was agreeing to have Tante Michal put in a couple of stitches while I tried to pretend this wasn’t happening. I do not like pain.

It didn’t take long for the whole ordeal to be over. Tante Michal is good! By the time the first scent of potato kugel wafted in from the kitchen I had a neatly bandaged finger. Kaila joined me in thanking Tante Michal for dropping everything to help us. “But this probably really set you back in your cooking. How can we make it up to you?”

“Well,” she responded with a gleam in her eye, “since Shoshie is pretty limited in what she can do now, maybe I can borrow her for a bit. I’ll accomplish so much more if I have someone to hold or play with Tova’le. Can you spare her, Kaila?”

I soon found myself in Tante Michal’s kitchen holding Tova. “I feel so bad about all of this,” I told my aunt. “I made so much trouble for everyone!”

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 725)