Isn't that a great word? It brings to mind a huge drawer, filled with all sorts of odds-and-ends, like bits of ribbon, spools of thread, and some of those discarded pieces of trash that my sons bring home for their clubhouse--but in thoughts rather than physical entities. Are thoughts physical entities? I think I am getting too philosophical for a Monday morning!

Okay, here's a skill-testing question: what's more powerful than nuclear fission, more unrestrained than wild horses, more destructive than a hurricane, faster than the speed of lightning, and cuter than all those Huggies' ads? My almost-two-year-old, Yisrael Chanina, of course. (Congratulations to all you geniuses who answered correctly; you win a child-lock!) He is ripping through the house with abandon, having mastered the skill of climbing like a real pro. Did I say "climbing"? Try rapelling. With a special knack for getting into the kitchen sink. Children are, I have discovered, the cure-all for the evils of their parents. They give us patience where we had none; they make us selfless where we were selfish; they also, of course, give us love and mushiness where we thought we were doing just fine. And, most importantly, they show us that nothing is too valuable to escape their eager gasp of death. Like my beautiful new washing cup (yeah, the one I replaced after my son broke it a couple of months ago), which now lies in gaily colored disarray, freshly shattered by my invigorated toddler. Did I love it? Yeah. Do I love him? Yeah. Can the two be integrated? Yeah. Strange.

I promised you miscellogeny, so here's another random topic. My neighbor and I had a pleasant conversation about the roles of husbands and wives in being spiritual mentors for each other. Should a husband tell his wife when her dress is immodest? Should a wife tell her husband when his Torah learning slacks off? Her take on it, I thought, was very sweet. Her husband told her that he comments on her religious observance because he loves her so much and cares about her Olam Habah (spiritual existence in the Next World). Hmmm...What say you?

And since miscellogeny ought to come in threes, how about this for a third trifling stashed in that mental drawer? Color. I love color. I have finally concluded that color is Hashem's gift to us so we can drink in the vibrancy and delight of life. I just bought myself a handmade watch, comprised of baubles and beads, multi-hued, and it is gorgeous. As I contemplate the handiwork, a rainbow of color, it stirs my soul. Funny how something so mundane and temporal can evoke metaphysical awakenings. Do you love color?

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