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| Madame Chamberlaine |

The Muddled Monday

My mother went into the kitchen. There, too, pink bubbles fizzed out of the sink. She opened the faucet and shrieked

I woke up on Monday morning and looked around. Shuly was still sleeping. The walls were pink, the net curtains were swaying in the wind. My pink negel vasser was at the foot of my bed.

Everything was the same as yesterday.

Yesterday evening, when my father came home, he warned us that the government was expecting an attack on their computer system. No one was sure what would happen or even if it would happen. However, everything and anything, like the electricity and the water, could be interrupted! Everyone was nervous.

I had a hard time falling asleep. I pulled the blanket this way and that way. I pulled it up to my chin and then threw it off.

“Shuly?” I whispered. “Are you still awake?”

“Mmmmmm.”

“Are you scared?”

“Mmmmmm.”

“Then how can you sleep?” I asked louder.

“Who says I’m sleeping? I’m trying to sleep, but you’re making so much noise with your blanket that I can’t sleep!”

“Sorry. I’m so worried about tomorrow. Do you think we’ll have school?”

“I hope not,” Shuly said. “That’s one system I wish would be hacked!”

We both ended up falling asleep. Now, it was the morning, and everything looked the same.

I cocked my ear.

Outside, the cats were purring, the birds were singing, and the sheep were bleating.

Wait. Sheep? Here in the city?

I washed my hands and ran to the window.

No sheep!

Baaaa. Baaaa.

What was going on here? I heard sheep but all I saw outside my window were two cats.

Don’t tell me someone hacked the cats!

Baaaa. Baaaa.

There it was again! The sound was coming from somewhere high up!

“Shuly! Shuly! Wake up!” I yelled.

Soon everyone in the house was up. Donny opened the bathroom door and shrieked.

Pink bubbles were bubbling and frothing out of the bathtub drain.

“A bubble bath?” I asked.

“I think the sewer systems got hacked,” my father said grimly.

My mother went into the kitchen. There, too, pink bubbles fizzed out of the sink. She opened the faucet and shrieked.

We all scampered down the steps.

Ice cubes were tumbling out of the faucet and clattering onto the pink bubbles.

“What will happen if you open the hot water?” Donny asked. “Will there be hot ice cubes?”

My mother smiled and turned on the hot water.

Nothing but a stream of steam came out of the faucet.

“Great for acne,” my mother said to Donny. “Maybe put your face really close to the steam. It’ll clear your pores.”

“Wait,” Shuly said. “Can I first have some of those ice cubes for my orange juice?”

She opened the fridge.

“Blech,” she said. “It feels like a steam bath!”

She took the orange juice and yelped!

“Ah! The bottle is boiling!”

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 787)

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