My dad arrived in Israel on Friday afternoon and my husband went to pick him up from the airport. I hadn’t seen my father in a year and a half. Time passes by so quickly it’s ridiculous. It doesn’t feel like I havent seen him in that long. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel particularly close to my parents. Then again, I only truly miss my husband and daughters when I am away from them…
I like having guests over because it forces my ass to get up and clean. I am usually so overwhelmed and tired when Friday rolls around to do any housework (besides for cooking- because that’s the only day that I do)- In Israel the weekend begins on Friday.
So we cleaned the house- my girls are always so adamant about helping us. I never say no, because I once read somewhere that if you turn down help from your kids when they are young, don’t expect them to want to help you when they get older. Hmm.. truth.
So this was them:
How cute? Neve saw that her Dad took off his shirt while cleaning so she decided to do the same. I overheard their conversation from the kitchen, “I’m taking my shirt off because you took your shirt off”- part of me expected him to say “No, Daddy can take his shirt off because he is a boy” but he didn’t… and I loved him at that moment for that… he’s never one to define gender roles…
On Saturday, we went to visit my grandfather. There is roughly an 8 year age difference between my maternal grandfather and my father. It’s strange. My parents have a 12 year age difference which is crazy to me.
Neve agreed to be a ham and sit for a picture for me:
I mean, how beautiful is it to have a photo with your grandfather and great-grandfather? I knew my maternal great-grandfather. He used to wear a knit cap and would put candy in it to pass around to the kids. He had kind eyes.
It’s great seeing my girls interact with my dad- even if it’s only for a few weeks.