A Sandwich Kid

There is a Hebrew expression...the sandwich kid...which denotes the middle child. When my youngest was born, my daughter, who was ten at the time, turned to me and asked,

'Imma, when you eat a sandwich, what is the most important part?'

Then, before I could answer, she added, 'The hot dog!'

My sweet daughter was sandwiched between her older brother, the first born and her younger brother, the baby.

The hot dog! That's my girl!!!

Yesterday, I was informed by a serious, reliable source that there was a very very good chance that the Hezbollah would attack Tel Aviv around nine thirty at night. And he added that if that happens then the air raid sirens will go off in Jerusalem as well.

I thanked him, hung up the phone and looked at my watch. I had almost twelve hours to make some important decisions.

I know what to do. We all do. The little ticker tape blurbs are constantly running below all the talking heads. Goes something like this:

If you live in cities X, Y, and Z stay in the shelters. For those of you who are in A, B, and C go into the protected room when you hear the sirens. If you don't have a protected room, then go into an inner space...a room that doesn't have an outer wall. If you are in your car, get out and run to an open doorway or stairwell. OY.

All of a sudden I realized that I don't have a small, battery operated radio. If the electricity goes off, I don't have a way to tune in and hear what is going on.

OK. I have an inner space...my youngest's old room. Or maybe the small bathroom. I remember from the Gulf War that a bathroom is a very important room. As soon as the sirens go off, for some reason so does your bladder.

My kids! My marrieds are religious and there is no way to contact them until Shabbat is over.

My youngest was still at work at the Prime Minister's Office.

By eight thirty at night, I knew I had two phone calls to make. One to my daughter and the other to Bubbie Channah.

I asked my daughter if she wanted to come home. Her boyfriend was working in Tel Aviv! and wouldn't be home till much later. She told me not to worry, that she would be all right. But that she would call him and tell him to be careful.

That left Bubbie Channah. Here is the conversation.

'Hi, Ma. Listen, I have to tell you something.'
'What is it?'
'There is a chance that the sirens will go off in Jerusalem tonight. And if they do, I want you to grab your cell phone and sit in the bathroom.'

Silence.

'Ma, did you hear me?'
'Listen, Marallyn. Let George Bush sit in the toilet. Tonight is the lottery and I have to watch the television to see if I won anything!'

Don'tcha just love Bubbie?

Today was a devastating day for Israel. The dead and wounded mounted...both soldiers and civilians. The pictures are coming out showing the horrendous destruction and, if possible, even scarier are the pictures of the effect of the metal pellets that the rockets and missiles are full of.

My thoughts and prayers are with my nephew who is fighting someplace up north with his unit. And all the people up north...both soldier and civilian. They are my heroes.

I have moments when I'm afraid. Afraid for the safety of those I love, and afraid that we will be stopped before we finish the job.

I know we will be fine. I know we will prevail. And I know that the bastards will not win.

In the meantime, I'm keeping my job as a sandwich kid.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.