"Are you hungry?" Doda Yucky asks. "Let me fix you both something. You've had such a long day."
"I took her to Marinado by Kibbutz Ein Gev," Avi tells them. "I couldn't resist stopping there for one of their burgers."
I sit with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in their small living room as we catch up on the past year. Even though we talk every week, it's not the same as actually spending time with them. Uncle Chime laughs when I tell him about my experiences on the army base, and even tells me a funny story about digging ditches when he was in the army. I guess digging ditches is a rite of passage for Israeli soldiers. Doda Yucky shares her own stories about being an instructor on one of the bases. Matan climbs on her lap and dangles off her knees while she's talking. Doda Yucky has always been sweet to me. She never stops smiling, and she loves everyone she comes in contact with.
Then the conversation turns to Sofia's health. Doda Yucky tells me how she found her unconscious. The somber mood returns as they tell me to pray for the best.
A yawn escapes my mouth.
"You need sleep," Uncle Chime tells me. "You look exhausted."
"I am." Although I don't know if I can sleep. Too many thoughts are running through my head, but I'm so overtired, hopefully my eyes will close as soon as I hit my pillow.
After Avi helps bring my suitcases in from the car, Osnat drags her pillow and blanket out of her room. "Amy can sleep in my room. I'll sleep in Sofia's room tonight," she says.
I peer inside Osnat's room. Just like I remembered, it has two twin beds situated across the room from each other. "I don't want to kick you out of your room. You've got two beds. We can share."
"It's not a problem. Really. I'd rather sleep in Sofia's bed. I'd feel closer to her somehow. Besides, you snore."
I give a huff. "That's so not true."
"You're asleep, so how would you know? Seriously, last summer I needed earplugs when you slept in my room."
I look up at Avi. "I do not snore."
"I believe you," he says. "But right now I need to go across the street to let my parents know I'm here."
My heart starts racing in panic. I grab a fistful of his shirt and hold on tight. "But you're coming back tonight, right?"
"If you want me to."
"I don't want you to leave for a second."
"You need to get ready for bed, Amy. I can't exactly be with you then, unless you want your uncle and dad to threaten to give me a second circumcision." He kisses me lightly on the lips. "Take a hot shower and enjoy it. You haven't had one in a while. I'll be back after I say hi to my parents and wash up. I promise."
Famous last words.
I stand in the foyer pouting like my dog Mutt when he watches me put my jacket on. If I was a real dog, I would whimper just like Mutt, too. But I'm not a dog and I have to suck it up and stay positive.
I can do positive.
Taking a deep breath, I grab my PJs and head for the one bathroom. There's still an open keyhole/peephole in the door for anyone inclined to look at someone peeing or taking a dump. I undress quickly, unwrap the gauze from my arms, and turn the water on, hoping none of my Israeli family members open the door without knocking.
"When the water turns hot, it's like the Almighty Lord has sent a miracle down to earth just for me. Being super gentle while soaping the still-raw cuts on my arms, I lather up, scrub, rinse, and repeat a few times before letting the water just run down my body. Ahh, this feels great.
I hear the door open.
"Helloooo, I'm in here," I say loudly, then stick my head out of the curtain to see who's barged in on me.
It's little Matan, with his corkscrew hair and Power Ranger pajamas on. "Shalom, Ami," he says, smiling wide. He says my name Ah-mee instead of Amy.
"Shalom. Do you mind? I'm in the shower here." I know the kid doesn't understand English, but you'd think he'd get the hint. No such luck.
My little toddler cousin pulls down his pants and starts peeing in the toilet next to the shower. Does he not care that I'm in here, totally naked behind the curtain? To top it off, he starts scratching his butt while he's peeing. Eww.
Please don't tell me every guy does this.
When he's done, he gives his thingie a little shake, pulls up his pants, and waves to me with a big happy-go-lucky smile on his face. I'll never get over the fact that guys don't wipe their wee-wees after they pee. It just seems so unsanitary. It also seems unsanitary that Matan is going out of the bathroom without washing his hands. Totally not acceptable.
"Yo, Matan!" I call after him.
"Kent" Yes?
I'm still naked, in the shower with shampoo in my hair and soap running down my body, with my head the only thing peeking out from the curtain. "Wash your hands, little buddy."
"Lo meda'bear Angleet, Ami." He doesn't understand English, and he's waiting for me to translate what I just said.
How the hell am I supposed to know what wash your germy hands is in Hebrew? I let go of the curtain and rub my hands together using the universal hand-washing motion, then point to the sink. "Wash your hands," I tell him again, hoping he understands this time.
Matan points to my now exposed boobs and says, "Tzee-tzeem g'doleem!"
I know that gadol means "big," and I can just imagine that tzee-tzeem means "boobs" by the direction of his pointing finger. Would he think it polite of me to point to his wee-wee and announce "Pee-pee katan!" --Hebrew for his ding-a-ling is tiny?