I’m off on another adventure, this time a parent-child trip, just the two of us, to Israel. So far my travel companion has stressed about his seat (we changed it), forgot to take things out of his pocket at security (he had to get two pat downs), and came proudly to show me his calculator, which read, “755,” and asked, “Do you know what that is?”
No, I don’t know. (Do you?) Smugly he told me, “It’s the number of steps from where we are having snacks to our gate.” He calculated it out.
I guess I should expect this stuff when I’m traveling with the boy.
Only I’m not traveling with the boy. I’m the child here as I’m traveling with my dad. Whose resemblance to the boy becomes clearer every day.
Lehitriot!
[edited: My father wants to make it clear he was calculating steps because he needs to hit 10,000 on his FitBit and he wanted to find out how many he needed to get before we board. Now I’ve told you. And I don’t think this helps his case at all. He also denied “smugly” but I stand by it.]
I love this SO MUCH. Safe travels, my friend! Happy Purim!