Out of Step: Chapter 41
We’re about to eat when Babby says, “Uh-uh, not so fast”
The thing about older brothers is that one second they’re doing something totally gross, like licking mayonnaise off all ten of their fingers, and the next minute, they don hats and jackets and become bnei Torah that you actually respect. It’s confusing.
I think this as I watch Benny tie his kittel and Yehuda stack his Haggadohs, yes that’s plural, and Aharon plump the pillow on Ma’s chair. They all look so respectable, who would’ve thought that a mere 24 hours ago, the lot of them were finishing the contents of Ma’s chometz with gusto, heaping hamantaschen on top of blintzes and dousing the whole concoction in ice cream and chocolate syrup?
Yech. I shudder at the memory.
But as we all settle down at the Seder table, I can’t help feeling proud of the whole crazy bunch. Even though I hardly get to hear myself think most days, there’s something so special about being part of a large family. My gaze travels from Zeidy, who is busy fussing with Babby’s chair, to Daddy, his head already buried in his Haggadah, to Ma, who is bustling in from the kitchen with bowls of karpas. I find the matzah place card someone must have spent painstaking hours on, and am pleased to see that I’m between Chemia and Goldie.
Since I’m usually tucked in between Ma and Babby, this is a very refreshing turn of events.
Goldie looks absolutely gorgeous in a black maxi dress, the color contrast sharp against her blonde waves. I look down at my navy maxi with the gold buttons all the way down the front and smile. The original buttons had been navy, but I followed my gut, like Judy was teaching me to, and I loooove the result.
“That dress,” Goldie says enviously, “is fabulous.”
I blush as Ma beams and leans over to tell Babby that “Bella Rena practically sewed her dress.”
Oh boy.
I scoop Effie up, he looks heavenly in black ribbed pajamas and I crack up as Benny pulls out a teeny tiny kittel.
Daddy loves it, Yehuda rolls his eyes.
“Benny, those things are such rip-offs.”
I don’t really care either way, but I decide to get in on the action.
“Yeah, Ben, I would’ve made you one for free.”
Benny glares at me. “Well, you didn’t.”
“Well, you didn’t ask.”
We make faces at each other while Goldie giggles and Effie dons his kittel proudly.
“Kadeish!” Aharon proclaims loudly. We call a truce, all agree that Effie is the cutest thing that ever existed, and the wine cups are filled.
I gaze around the table as we proceed with Urchatz and Karpas.
So much has changed since last year, I’ve changed so much since last year. If you had told me last year that by next Pesach, dancing would be a thing of the past, and that I would be the proud owner of a sewing machine, I would have thought you were a few ingredients short of a cake, if you know what I mean.
Maggid brings spirited debates, lengthy devar Torahs, and like every year, actual shouting matches that shake me out of my melancholy thoughts.
Babby smiles proudly as Aharon pounds on the table and upends his becher. Naftoli yells back, accidentally sticking his elbow into the saltwater. I observe both of these occurrences with glee, but I also appreciate the zest my brothers have for Torah and Yom Tov and I promise myself that I’ll try to hold on to that in the years to come.
And then we’re crunching matzah, chasing down maror with great gulps of water, eating gefilte fish and fluffy knaidlach and then it’s time for the afikomen.
Daddy throws a concerned look at the clock. “Okay, wise guys, who has it?”
Effie jumps up and down and finally hands Benny’s over. When he’s done negotiating for a “plink plink,” (a slinky) we all face Shimshon.
“I have it!” he squeals.
Daddy’s eyes crinkle. “So how much will this cost me?”
“Play dough!”
We all laugh as Daddy cringes at the chometz toy but nods.
We’re about to eat when Babby says, “Uh-uh, not so fast.”
“Everything okay, Mom?” Daddy says politely, eyeing the clock again.
“Wonderful,” she says serenely. “But I’m guessing you all want to wait for Zeidy, don’t you?”
We all turn to Zeidy who is patting his matzah cover, a perturbed look on his face.
“Did you—”
“I did,” Babby says, nodding her head and winking at the rest of us.
I’m smiling broadly at this plot twist, Goldie pinches me under the table and we both try not to laugh.
“Can I ask why you’ve taken my afikomen?” Zeidy, ever the gentleman, is quite confused.
Babby nods again. “I’ll tell you. Not only that, I will give it right back to you.” She draws the cloth bag out from under her Haggadah with a flourish. “It’s all yours, dear.” She smiles at Ma conspiratorially, Ma smiles back.
Okay, what is happening?
Zeidy reaches for the bag, Babby pulls back.
“Just one small thing…”
Zeidy is more confused than ever. “Yes?”
“I want to go to Florida with Zelda and the girls.”
What?!
My jaw drops.
I’m no longer smiling.
to be continued…
(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 817)
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