So your son is finally out of the house, headed toward his dorm-in yeshiva! Finally! I mean, you love him, but it’s definitely better right now to love him from a distance. Like the sun. He’s your sun. And if he stays too close, you will erupt in flame.
I’ve noticed that basically every time I write about teaching, I write about my experiences in a boys’ mesivta. I do realize there are other grades, but this is where I teach.
There are two types of families when it comes to making Shabbos: Those who are ready by chatzos on Friday and those where the husband is getting into the shower as his wife lights the candles. And there’s no one in between. It doesn’t matter whether Shabbos starts late or early. And neither of these groups will ever consider doing it the other way. The first group enjoys the lack of last-minute panic with which the second group races into Shabbos before finally catching its breath sometime in the middle of the Rav’s Friday night drasha, and the second group enjoys that their Shabbos food is a lot fresher.
I imagine my loyal readers are anxious to hear how my pedometer regimen is going, if only so they too can say, “Why do I have to exercise? I already walk!”