The Wednesday morning before Purim, when I woke up, I told my wife that I had a most fascinating dream. I should preface by saying that I hardly ever remember my dreams, and when I do, I am always annoyed with them because they are scary and nonsensical. That made this dream all the better.

My high school students are helping to learn me English. To clarify, I’m actually teaching them English, but they are trying to teach me how to communicate in their world.

Whenever a situation warranted it, my Bubby a”h would quote an old Yiddish saying. When I then asked her what it meant, she would always say that you can’t properly translate such witticisms, because something gets lost in the translation.

Last week I noticed a placard advertising that Uncle Moishy would be coming to one of the local s’farim stores here in Monsey to promote his new book and CD. When I came home, I mentioned to my wife that our four-year-old twins would enjoy meeting Uncle Moishy. My intention was that they would really enjoy it if she took them, but since I was the one who had the bright idea, I was granted the privilege of taking them. I don’t know if that automatically qualifies me to win Dad of the year, but it should definitely be taken into consideration.

 I have never been good with names or faces. I joke that my wife never forgets a face, and I never remember one. So, while she will meet a woman and recognize her from kindergarten, I will meet a student and not be able to remember why he looks familiar (Well, not that bad, but close).