Shakshuka for Dinner?

Rosa has been waiting for 500 million years for me to start writing about her again

“Ask me a question, Daddy,” said Rosa swinging on the arm of the chair George was sitting on while reading his newspaper.

“What sort of question?” George was always up to entertaining his youngest daughter, especially after a tough day at work.

“Ask me how I slept,” replied Rosa still swinging on the armchair.

George pretended not to be bothered, even though he was. “But I know how you slept. I asked you that question this morning.”

“But ask me again!” Rosa was insistent.

George folded the paper and looked over the top of his reading glasses at Rosa. She immediately stopped rocking. “How did you sleep Rosa dear?”

“With my eyes closed” and with that she let out a shriek of laughter. George pretended to be amused but found it hard to be. Rosa stopped laughing and looked at her dad carefully, “didn’t you think that funny?” She hesitated for a moment, “Timmy told me that joke. Mummy asked him earlier before he went to school how he slept, and he told her with his eyes closed. Don’t you think that’s clever?”

For a second George had to think of a suitable reply. If he told her it was, then she might bother others however, if he told her it was bad she was liable to go back to Timmy and tell him that, ‘dad thought your joke was the worst ever!’ George’s answer was to ignore it. “What’s Julia making for dinner? It smells wonderful.”

“Falafel,” she replied this time rocking on her heels understanding that her father disapproved of her rocking on his chair while he read the newspaper.

“Falafel!” he repeated, “that sounds really yummy.”

“Yea, I guess,” Rosa didn’t seem enthused.

“Don’t you like falafel?” he asked hoping she would answer no and leave him alone. That of course was too good to expect.

“Yes, I do. But daddy she’s making shakshuka with tomatoes.”

“Oh yummy!” George loved Shakshuka.

“But daddy, it has eggs floating in a red sauce and you can’t have eggs for dinner only for breakfast.”

“And according to you,” replied George digging his index finger into her side which made her giggle. “According to you young lady, eggs should be banned from the earth.”

“That’s because it’s murder Daddy.”

“No it isn’t,” and then George suddenly realised he had yet again fallen into a well laid trap by his daughter. He wanted to finish the article he was reading, but Rosa wouldn’t let him off that easily.

“It’s murder Daddy, because if you didn’t eat the egg, it would become a chicken.”

George smiled. He loved his daughter’s logic, but it was far from being what was considered real logic. He let out a quick laugh. “So, you agree daddy.”

“No that’s not what I’m laughing about. Moshe came to me today with an advertisement he wants to take out in the paper for artificial intelligence. He says it’s the real deal. I tried to tell him that the words artificial and real don’t belong in the same sentence, especially when you’re talking about the same subject.”

“Oh,” Rosa felt her advantage fading. “I’m going to see what Elizabeth thinks of my joke.”

“Good luck with that one,” replied George, “that should be fun. Be careful though. If she doesn’t think it’s funny she might sue you.”

“She wouldn’t do that to her niece.”

“Really?” replied George as Rosa disappeared around the corner, “ask Jeremy. She doesn’t care if it can make her a few dollars.” George picked up his paper again, but somehow the article he was reading had lost its impact. Soon he was asleep. He would’ve stayed that way for hours had Julia not nudged him to tell him dinner was ready. “Oh yummy!” he replied jumping out of his chair with the newspaper falling on the floor. “I haven’t had Shakshuka in a long time.”

“Dad, we had it last week.”

“Yes, but that was different. That was green Shakshuka, not the traditional red.”

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” asked Julia who had found a recipe on the internet for spinach Shakshuka.

“It would’ve been better had it been spinach and not kale. That stuff is really tough.”

“Well Daddy, today I’ve gone back to making it with tomatoes.”

“Oh goody!” and with that, some of the family sat down to eat with the exception of Jeremy. He was banned from the house for a week by Elizabeth for feigning a slip and fall and grabbing Elizabeth’s dress which nearly came off. Sybil was already sitting down rubbing her hands with glee. Timmy wasn’t there and Rosa sat there doing her best to pout.

“Knock, knock,” said George looking at Rosa. She furrowed her brow.

“What’s that a knock, knock, joke?”

George motioned with his wing for her to ask who. She did. “Amos,” he replied.

“Amos who?” Rosa asked rolling her eyes.

“A mosquito!” replied George laughing out loud. No one else laughed.

“The dinner is getting cold,” Sybil thought it was time to eat. Rosa who didn’t want any of the shakshuka laughed out loudly thereby in her mind putting dinner off even longer.

“Moshe came to me this afternoon,” began George believing it was up to him to get the family back on an even keel. “And said we should take out an advertisement for artificial intelligence and we should take out the ad that says, Buy Blau artificial intelligence, it’s the real thing.”

“How can it be real if it’s artificial,” asked Timmy sitting down at the table.

“You talk to Moshe. I tried to get him to see how illogical that was.”

“I didn’t know you hired one of the Falashas,” said Sybil.

“I did a while ago. He was tired of driving for Uber because he said he didn’t make enough money and he told he that if he worked for me I would never regret it.” George tool a deep breath, “and that’s all I’ve done since I hired him, regretted it.”

“Why’s that Daddy?” asked Timmy who was fond of Moshe mainly because he told him about tracing their lineage back to King David and Queen Sheba who was Ethiopian.

“Simply because,” replied his father, “that he wants to take a break every hour or so to smoke his hashish. He tells me it’s very spiritual.”

“I bet he floats in after he smokes that!” replied Julia imagining the Falasha floating in and not flying.

“What’s hashish?” asked Rosa trying anything she could to delay dinner.

“It’s a drug,” replied her father.

“Can I have some?” Rosa was about to get up from the table.

“Where are you going?”

“To Moshe’s,” she replied.

“We haven’t finished dinner yet. In fact, we haven’t even started. And no, you can’t have any of that stuff.”

“Maybe it will make me a better Jew,” she replied.

“Nothing will make you a better Jew,” replied Julia and then immediately regretted that.

“Mummy, Daddy did I tell you that Julia is seeing that guy from Snead’s Ferry. The one who got a puppy for Christmas.”

“What!” shouted Sybil and George. “That reform Jew who celebrates Christmas?”

Rosa smiled. She looked at Julia and stuck her tongue out. Timmy took advantage of the chaos and helped himself to the falafels and Shakshuka.