Cheerios, Graduates, and Twits

First of all, thank you to everyone who commented on yesterday's post. There's just something about Dadz that inspires comments! And Risa, good point re the socks. We Leibtag children should all be very grateful!

However, in my list of "Zaidy's Greatest Accomplishments," I can't believe that I forgot to mention his unique ability to teach the grandkids how to eat Cheerios off the table using only their tongues!! (Thanks Leeze). It is one of his most cherished roles as a Zaidy. So I've included a picture of Zaidy with Ariella, when she was about 2.5, doing some serious Cheerios-with-the-tongue action. (And check out the AWESOME pigtails.)

By the way, we are getting very close to 30 Loyal Readers, as well as to our 200th post. This means something, although I'm not sure what.

In kiddie news, Ariella graduated from gan chova yesterday! School isn't officially over until the 30th, but last night was the "mesibat siyum." Donny, as usual, was the parent she chose to go with her to the festivities. He took LOTS of videos. As part of the swag, each kid got an individual and class picture, as well as a rockin' 3-section pencil case, partially filled with loot. The minute Ariella got home, she set to work filling the rest of her pencil case with all the things she will need for first grade. This girl is READY!

Today, in a Gila is A Twit Moment: (Yes, yes, one of many, I know, save yourselves the effort of making that particular joke.)

I went to "meenoose shalosh" today, with the kiddies, to take them to gan. (Actually, Ariella had a little cold and had gone to bed late the past two nights, so she was staying home.) We merrily trotted down to the car. I put Yaakov in his car seat, got in the car, punched in the code, and put in the key. So far, so good. Then I tried to turn the key, andthus our problems began. Nothing, except for this weird ticking noise. I punched in the code again, turned the key...same noise. I tried a third time (because, you know, maybe the car magically fixed itself! That always happens!). As you can imagine, nothing. We went back upstairs, and, this being a crisis, I proceeded to CALL DONNY. To my great disappointment, he did not single-handedly turn the train around, Superman-style, and rush back to Modi'in to assist me. He said, "Well, call the Car People." Useless.

Anyway, it was now around 7:30. I called the Car People. We then walked Yaakov to gan, and Ariella and I came home. I updated Donny, and mentioned, in a very authoritative sort of way, that I was pretty sure it wasn't a battery issue, because it wasn't making that sputtery, dying-battery sound. I checked in with the Car People at 8:30. They told me there's a two hour window for them to come. So I called again at 9:45. I should have known, of course, that the first phone call doesn't count, because indeed, they had put the wrong date in, and had someone scheduled to come tomorrow between 7:30 and 9:30. Haha! Car Man apologized profusely and said someone would be out as soon as possible.

About half an hour later, Car Fix-It Man showed up. I brought him down to the garage. He got into the car. "What's the code?" he asked. Now, I punch in this code a minimum of eight times a day, even if all I do is take the kiddies to and from gan. I know this code like I know my birthday, my teudat zehut number, and the automated doctor appointment number. "551124," I said confidently. (Note: Number has been changed to protect privacy.) He punches it in. It makes the Bad Sound, which, in Car Language, means "You twit. Try again." "You do it," Fix-It Man says. I punch in the code, the same code I've punched in over 2,000 times. Bad Sound. Followed by an even Worse Wound - "You bigger twit. The car is now locked. You lose." Uh-oh. Maybe the mysterious sickness ailing my car has now extended to the code! Fix It Man is very annoyed. At this point, we have to take the elevator up to the entrance level, in order for him to get cell phone reception, so he can call his peeps and find out what to do about the code.

End of story: I told him the wrong code. Not only that, I punched in the wrong code myself! (There's only one five, not two.) In the Annals of Twit-ness, this ranks as at least #3.

Okay, now we can get to actually fixing the car. He turned on the car - all the while glaring as this fool of a woman who can't even get her own code right - and it turned out that the problem was, indeed, the battery. He replaced it and drove off. My dreams of being a Car Fix It Lady were electrocuted on the spot. [Sigh.]

Question: What do you think is #1 in the Annals of Twit-ness? If you would like to share a particularly stupid moment with us - I mean, one that happened to "your friend," naturally - we would love to hear about it. (i.e. I'm too tired to think of what #1 should be, so I leave it up to you.)