JULY 16, ‘25 // would invite and how they would party. Ta da! Early on Sunday morning, (way too early, in my opinion,) a large truck backed into our driveway, and three burly delivery men banged on my door. I directed them to the garage, which led directly to our basement play room, and the men spent the next forty five minutes sweating buckets as they set up the system. It was huge, bigger than I’d thought, and just about fit into our spacious room with a few inches of wiggle room. It was truly, as my husband expressed, a ‘wow’ purchase, and worth every cent. The fun house was sturdy and colorful, very well constructed and with an extended warrantee to sweeten the deal. The Brauns were in our basement by ten fifteen, and they spent most of the day in our very own kiddie wonderland. I wondered if they’d get tired of it by vacation’s end, but to our surprise and delight, the fun house continued to excite them through July. We took turns inviting neighbors, relatives and old friends, a week-long extended party from the comfort of my home. I was doling out snacks, mopping up spills, and filling garbage bags with the detritus of twenty-five hyperactive kids. Still, it sure beat schlepping out in the heat with overstimulated kids of various ages, waiting in endless lines, and coming home bone-tired and starved. “I think it was the best purchase I ever made,” I said to my husband. “Even if I did end up hosting half the neighborhood, and dealing with the mess.” “You see? I told you it was a no-brainer. Pay once, and enjoy the entertainment all year.” Day camp started, and the fun house was eventually deflated. Peshy’s husband came to pick it up and store at their home, which made sense, because she had more storage room. And then, halfway through July, six year old Zalmy caught a bug and came down with something. He was pale and listless, his eyes glazed, and was running a fever. I took him to the pediatrician, who couldn’t figure it out. His ears and throat were clear, yet he was more lethargic than ever. “I recommend a full lab workup,” said Dr. Levine. “Maybe he has an infection, or some underlying condition.” I was frantic, yet tried to remain calm so that Zalmy shouldn’t feed off my anxiety. We did the blood work, with me holding my precious son as the phlebotomist drew a few vials of blood. “The results will be in tomorrow,” said the doctor. “If you’d like, I’ll email them to you.” “Uh, I don’t have a computer,” I stammered. “I guess I’ll just wait for the results. Or maybe, wait a minute. I’ll ask my neighbor if I can use hers.” I called Peshy and asked if she’d mind my using her email address, so that I could have the blood work handy in case we needed a second opinion. Peshy readily agreed, and the doctor set up the portal. The results would come into Peshy’s personal email, but only I would have the password to download it. The next day saw a slight improvement. Zalmy’s fever slowly dropped, but he was still sluggish and sleepy. The lab results came in during the late afternoon, and Peshy graciously invited me to view them. 172
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