When I was growing up, if you were sick, you went to a doctor. Those were strange times. Nowadays, if you’re sick, the doctor doesn’t want to see you. I mean, you’re sick! If doctors saw sick people all day, every day, do you know what their life expectancy would be?
A few months back, I wrote an article complaining about how many waking hours of Purim we spend in the car. It’s almost all of them, we figured out. But in my excitement to complain about Purim, I totally forgot how many waking hours of Chanukah we spend in the car.
This week’s article might be a little hard to understand, because I have *cough*cough*cough*cough* a cough. I can’t get through one *cough*cough*COUGH*cough*COUGH* sentence without coughing. Even typing a sentence, apparently.
I would have to say that one of the biggest issues with running a Chanukah gift article every year is that I write it too close to Chanukah, and all the good gifts are already sold out.
So my daughter is going on her first date ever, and everybody involved is nervous, though some of us more than others. I’m pretty nervous as the father, especially since I have a cough that I can’t get rid of. I have to shake his hand, right? Even if I’m sick?