Rosa’s Bestest Friend Ever
Hi God, it's me Rosa. Sorry, I was being a naughty kid today, but I did not like my brother doing math with me cause he's very smart and he does not make math fun. My teacher said that in everything that must be done, there must be an element of fun, just like Mary Poppins. God, can you please make sure my daddy gets better sleep tonight because he was very tired and yawning. And, God please, make Julia stop making spicy food for dinner and one last thing, please, help me get oatmeal for breakfast. OK? I love you. You're a good boy and I'm proud of you. Amen.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” shouted Rosa as she ran towards her father who was waiting for her at the front door, colliding with him instead of jumping into his arms. George managed to stand his ground, though he was rather winded.
“What’s all this shouting about young lady?” he asked hugging her as hard as he could. “Guess what?” Rosa replied, “I just met my bestest friend in the whole wide world!”
“You did?” asked George surprised. He looked up at his wife sybil who stood at the other end of the corridor by the kitchen.
“Yes, Daddy,” she began turning to make sure her mother was listening as well.
“Hello Rosa,” replied Sybil waving her wing, “how nice to see you. Did you have a good day at school?” Rosa turned back to her father.
“Yes Daddy. She is my bestest friend in the whole world.”
George smiled. This was a very familiar circular conversation he had had with his daughter several times over the years. “And what is your bestest friend’s name?”
“Abby,” replied Rosa walking towards the kitchen though her mother was in the way. “Hi Mummy,” she waved at Sybil before giving her a peck on her cheek. She pushed by her into the kitchen to see what Julia had made for her as a snack. “What are these?” she asked pointing to a container on the counter.
“Fresh figs, Rosa. They came in our Misfits package today.”
“Oh,” replied Rosa not believing a word Julia had said. “They look like the poop emoji.”
“Rosa!” her mother said sternly. “That’s not nice! And anyway, both your father and I are waiting to hear about your new friend Abby.”
“Can I have one then?” asked Rosa and Julia shrugged her shoulders.
“Only if you like to eat poop,” she answered.
“Mummy, Daddy!” Rosa began.
“No, they aren’t poop,” interrupted Sybil. Rosa reached into the bowl and took a bite.
“Wow these are good!” and then in typical Rosa fashion added, “is this what poop tastes like?” To which Sybil scowled at her daughter. “Can I have another?” asked Rosa ignoring her mother.
“Only one more and that’s it,” replied Julia, “because I’ve got to make dinner.”
“What’s for dinner?” asked Rosa leaving her parents hanging, but that wasn’t unusual. “Shrimp curry,” she replied.
“Oh yummy!” Rosa was in seventh heaven, she loved shrimp.
“Ok, can we go back to what we were talking about earlier?” asked George who still stood by the front door.
“Well, her name is Abby and that’s it.”
“That’s it?” questioned Sybil. “First of all young lady, what’s Abby short for and secondly, where does she live?”
“Are they new to this area?” added George hoping they were Jewish and would attend synagogue.
“I think its short for Abigail,” Rosa had finished her second fig and was considering what sob story she could come up with in order to get a third.
“I guess they aren’t Jewish in that case,” replied George a little disappointed, “but it’s good to have friends in other faiths. Don’t you agree Sybil dear?”
“Yes absolutely,” replied Sybil who decided it was time for her to get a fig, especially after Rosa’s declaration that they were wonderful. “After all,” she continued, “oh my, these are delicious!”
“Mama,” interrupted Julia, “first of all, you’re not allowed in the kitchen and secondly, please save some for Timmy.”
“Well Timmy has Max as a friend and he’s not Jewish,” Sybil manged to finish her sentence. “Quite right,” replied George who remained standing at the door though he wasn’t sure why. He had already had two figs and wasn’t about to incur the wrath of Julia by asking for a third.
“No daddy, she is Jewish.”
George perked up, “I’ve never met a Jewish girl named Abigail. But nowadays that tradition is gone.”
“Well, I’m Rosa and I’ve never met another Jewish girl called Rosa.”
Neither George nor Sybil knew how to answer, so it was best left alone. “And so they will be coming to synagogue?” asked George still trying to figure out how to get another fig.
“I’m not sure,” replied Rosa deciding to walk out of the kitchen and into the living room where she collapsed on one of the plush armchairs.
“Why aren’t you sure, young lady?” asked George.
“Well,” replied Rosa exhaling in contentment as she disappeared for a second in a pile of feathered cushions, which she believed were filled with magic. “Well, when I told her that you’re a Rabbi, she said something about her family aren’t very observant.”
“Are they new here?” Sybil asked walking out of the kitchen into the living room.
“Yes Mummy, they are from California.”
“Why did they come such a long way?” asked George following his wife into the living room and sitting down on the couch.
“Taxes!” replied Rosa and both Sybil and George began to laugh. Rosa sounded so grown up. “Good reason,” George finally replied. “Maybe I should pay them a visit.” He thought for a second. “What about Abigail did you like enough to make her your best friend?”
“She loves unicorns,” replied Rosa, “that’s all I need. I told her I have a magical unicorn rug and she wants to come over and see it.”
Sybil panicked slightly. “When?” she asked believing that any minute there would be a knock on the door and there would be a family waiting to be invited in.
“No Mummy, it’s ok. She has to talk to her parents first.” Sybil relaxed.
“Where do they live?” asked George, “I need to go and welcome them.”
“I’ll go with you Daddy,” replied Rosa.
“OK young lady, but why don’t we go after dinner. I don’t want to miss out on the shrimp curry.”
“Me too!” Rosa was excited.
“Me three!” Timmy had just walked in from school where he was busy with one of his numerous science experiments.
“Oh hi, Timmy,” Sybil welcomed him home with a big hug which always embarrassed him but he never objected.
“Rosa is telling us about her new best friend at school, Abigail,” said George. “After dinner I’m going over to their house to welcome them.”
“Abigail?” queried Timmy. “I saw Rosa a couple of times with another girl, but I don’t think here name is Abigail.”
“Yes, it is,” interjected Rosa. “Her name is Abby.”
“Ha, ha!” laughed Timmy, “how can she be your best friend when you don’t even know her name. it’s not Abigail, its Abryanna.”
“Oh,” replied Rosa jumping off the armchair. “Anyway, she’s my best friend.”
“How do you know her name is Abryanna?” asked George.
“Because she has a brother, he’s in my science class. They are new here, they came from California.”
“Yes, Rosa has filled us in with all that information.”
“Their father is a pilot and he was transferred to Camp Lejeune.”
“Ha, ha,” laughed George, “that makes more sense than the reason Rosa gave us.”
“What was that?”
“Taxes.”
“Well, Dad, she right about the taxes in California. But that’s not the reason they came here.”
“Are they Orthodox?” asked Sybil.
“I’m not sure,” replied Timmy, “he doesn’t wear a kippah like I do. By the way, are there any figs left or did Rosa finish them all?”
“I left some for you,” replied Rosa indignantly, “and if you don’t want the poop, I’ll eat yours.” Sybil glared at Rosa who in turn looked out of the window.