A Halavah Revelation

On Christmas, or if you prefer, Hanukkah, Day Two, it hit me like a block of halavah, or if you prefer, halva -- the shocking revelation that maybe I can't always control the universe. Naturally, I blame my father for this misdirect. He raised me to believe he could control the weather (and just about everything else) and encouraged me to exercise the same sort of mastery over my own life. The results have been iffy. When it comes to my sons, I've done my best to empower them, even from afar. For the past few days, I've texted the following all-knowing statement to the eldest, currently in France for the holidays, with only the clothes he wore on the plane: "Your luggage will arrive tomorrow." Well, it didn't, and soon he was begging for underwear, sweaters and socks; pilfering pants and shirts from the charming hosts who'd welcomed him into their home. Once again, I commanded the universe to get its kaka together. The universe ignored the SJG. The universe had more important things on its mind. Can you imagine?

And then, today, the results of my omnipotence paid off. His luggage finally arrived. Just as I said it would. I knew I could do it. I've still got it. Next assignment.