Australian Leezy, lest you think I have forgotten your question about Donny's shirts, let me take this time to answer them. The bottom line, which is not only crucial for understanding this blog post and Donny's wardrobe, but is in fact an underlying tenets of our entire marriage is: I. Do. Not. Iron. We don't even own an iron. I mean, we used to back in the 'Dale, but it did not make the cut to get onto our lift. In fact, the only purpose I can see to owning an iron is to iron Fuse Bead projects. But then, you'd always have to be ironing Fuse Bead projects. So, no, there is actually no good reason for owning an iron. Donny invested in those shirts that you can wash and dry and not have to iron. Travel shirts, or something. He also owns some stylin' (well, for Donny) knit polo shirts, both long and short sleeves. We do have a dry cleaners that we go to on occasion. So now you are in the know and up to date on Donny's shirts.
Fairy and Pajama Soldier Boy had their first big debut last night. The misrad haklitah threw a Purim extravaganza at the iriyah, and Ariella especially was super-dee-duper excited to unveil her fairy costume. It took about thirty minutes for it to start falling apart. A new record! The beautiful, authentic, high-quality, faux-feather lining started to detach itself from the tissue-paper thin sleeves. Needless to say, Fairy took this very hard. I am now in search of clear packing tape to reattach the lining. Fix-It Fairy, indeed. She could take comfort in the fact that Pajama Soldier Boy's helmet barely lasted fifteen minutes before cracking. This was my fault. On the way to the iriyah, I was carrying the helmet, like any good mother of a soldier, and it slipped from my hands. Crack - right down the middle. Better find that tape STAT. The party was fun - there were oznei haman (question: How do you say only one of those triangular delicacies? Ozen Haman doesn't seem right. Maybe since Ariella thinks the plural is "oznei hamanim" - can you imagine if there were more than one of those triangle-eared, sycophantic, lunatic, anti-Semites running around ancient Persia? Oy! - the singular can actually be oznei haman. Discuss.)
So the kids had fun - Ariella immersed herself in arts and crafts, Yaakov immersed himself in oznei haman (and yes, he had more than one, so the above discussion is irrelevant in his case), and everything was going swimmingly until a few minutes before the magic show. Suddenly, Ariella didn't - dum dum DUM - "feel good." Fairy, Pajama Soldier Boy, and the mean ogre in charge hauled it out of there and went to the doctor, who said everything looked fine and it might be some version of the stomach virus Donny had. Yippee! But now, Friday morning, I am thinking the doctor might be mistaken. (Full admission: I am less inclined to question the doctor's judgement when I walk out of an appointment with a prescription in my hand.) We spent a lovely night on the couch together (Ariella and I that is; not the doctor), and she seemed the very opposite of Stomach Virus Fairy - eating cereal at 3:00 in the morning, melted cheese sandwiches at 6:30. I made another doctor's appointment to double check her throat. I will of course update you later. Now, I must recover from my night - Sleepless in Modi'in, though with less romance. It actually ended up being quite pleasant as I spent most of my time chatting with Momz, Rachel, and Shoshana on gmail. Gotta love that time difference sometimes.
Update: Kappayim to mother's intuition - Ariella does indeed have strep. Because it is a Friday, the Maccabi Powers that Be allow for rapid strep tests. So we know in no uncertain terms that we have a Strep Throat Fairy on our hands. Luckily, though, she comes with the Magical Potion that will turn her back into Regular Fairy in twenty-four hours. We are going ahead with our Shabbos plans to be with the Balsams (that was the original, Donny-in-America-plan so we kept it), and darn it, violent stomach illnesses and strep throat will NOT keep us away!