Oops!

Well, it finally happened. I forgot one of my kids.

Given the number of children I have, combined with my complete lack of organizational skills and poor short-term memory, I suppose something like this was bound to happen: I went to a haircut appointment, assuming that Marina would pick Hilary up from preschool as she often does - only Marina had recently had shoulder surgery and couldn't drive, so Hilary sat unclaimed in the synagogue lobby.

Fortunately, the preschool has an after care program, so Hilary just stayed at school while the director tried to track me down. She reached Matty at home, who picked Hilary up just as the school was closing at four o'clock for Shabbat.

Of course, I apologized profusely to Matty and to Hilary. Hilary had a great time at after care, where she was fed ice cream, so she didn't feel abandoned at all. I can't really say what Matty thought of the whole thing, since he was his usual nonchalant self, but I imagine he and Keri had a big laugh about it (as I deserved) in the privacy of their own room.

This, in a nutshell, is what I love most about having Keri and Matty here. It's actually not that they're both professional chefs and do all the cooking - although that's what I tell people. What I love is the security, the knowledge that I can't screw up too badly without someone covering my ass, putting me back on track, and generally making the world right again. While Andy is usually good for anything involving my ass, he's working a lot of the time. But Keri and Matty remind me that the kids have to dress in blue and white for Israeli Independence Day and nag me to call the pool people, the electrician, the milk delivery guy and other various service providers. They let the dogs out in the morning if I'm late coming down, make sure I register the kids for day camp, and (incorrectly) diagnose my children's contact rashes as parasitic infections. OK, so Matty was wrong that time. But hey, nobody's perfect.