Eldest’s much anticipated sleepover party with her girlfriends tonight was in danger of cancellation when the apartment flooded this morning.
This year we’re not going to be around for the big event. Last time, which was a few years ago, remains in our minds as a trauma. So the three of us, Bish, youngest, and I, are fleeing to the peace and quiet (we hope) of a modest hotel on the sea front - near enough to be called back if needed, far enough to get some sleep. Two birds in one swoop.
I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry, they’re good kids. They won’t be wrecking the place.
We have really nice plumbers, amazingly enough. I can hardly believe it only took me nineteen years in Tel Aviv to find them. It’s an efficient little company, very un-Israeli. The boss guy actually rang, after the very nice, efficient workman (albeit a bit chatty) had left, to make sure we were happy. I thought I was dreaming. It’s the third time we’ve had them in and they’ve always been great.