Last night's seder was a mixed blessing. Morty is sick again, his hip keeps acting up and his hemmorhoids are out of control. Bernie had a goiter growing out of his neck, the size of a melon. Not the kind you get at the supermarket either, but from Moische's on Avenue N. Phyllis seems happy, but she burnt the pot roast for the second year in a row. Of course, Shana's babies scream every time they see me. They are what, two now? I can't stand dealing with them when they scream like that. What a headache I had.
The family is good though. My nephew did the Kibbutz. What a face on that boy. He looks so much like his father. I'm proud of him. Of course I'd be happier if my brother were still alive, but what can you do? My osteoperosis keeps flaring up, and I think I'm beginning to lose my hearing. Sometimes when I walk, there's an odd clicking noise coming from my feet. Maybe I need new shoes. Of course, it could be worse. It could always be worse.
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