“Bella,” Naftoli says, “one bright and glorious day it will occur to you that not everything that happens in this family has to do with you”

There should be a law against excessive sympathy.

“I’m not going back to school,” I announce by way of greeting as I thump through the door.

My words are met by a roomful of shocked faces. “Uh, why is everyone in the kitchen?” I ask no one in particular, but with the question directed toward Ma, who is rolling out dough on the counter.

“Hamantasherins!” Shimshon crows happily.

Ohhh. With Purim fast approaching, and me having less than zero interest in holiday spirit, Mommy must have turned toward her less helpful offspring, a.k.a. my brothers.

I ruffle Shim-Shim’s hair and muster up a smile.

“Anyway, I’m not going back to school,” I say.

Ma claps the flour off her hands and plops a piece of dough down in front of each brother.

“Et tu, Naftoli?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs. “I’m not ashamed. Chocolate filling is chocolate filling.”

I hide a grin at this profound statement and turn back to Ma.

“So, what happened?” she asks me, now handing out circular cookie cutters.

“Uch, nothing happened exactly. It’s just the overall atmosphere. Everyone is so….” I search for the correct word but draw a blank. “They’re just all too much,” I finish lamely.

Ma raises an eyebrow. “I hear. That’s hard, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

I let out a huff of air and look around for an available seat, but the male population has taken every single one.

I lean on the counter. “So, what’s this year’s grand theme?”

Ma wrinkles her nose.

“We’re being parrots!” Shimshon crows.

I blink. “You are?”

“Pirates,” Chemia clarifies.

“Ohhh.” Oh. “Because of me?” I ask, only half-joking. “I’m the one-legged Captain Blackbeard?”

“Chas veshalom,” Ma says automatically. “And no, of course not, don’t be silly.”

“Hmm, steer into the skid and all that?”

“Bella,” Naftoli says, “one bright and glorious day it will occur to you that not everything that happens in this family has to do with you.”

I glare at him and then decide to spar with humor instead of anger.

“What a perfectly ridiculous thing to say,” I snap in a lofty British accent. “Of course the world revolves around me.”

The little kids laugh but Ma just looks relieved. Gosh, you’d think I was usually difficult to be around or something.