I know I may have expressed some misgivings about the character of my Uncle Michael, but it turns out that although he may be a little scruffy and disreputable (doesn’t he have an ima to give him a bath and a shave every once in awhile?), he’s pretty cool as uncles go. He says he wants to get me a piano so I can put those “jazz fingers” to good use (apparently I have long fingers?) – but I think it might be a little premature: my eyes only started focusing a few days ago, I’m still not sure what exactly I’m supposed to do with those “leg” things hanging under my belly, and Uncle Michael’s trying to get me to repeat after him this word that sounds like “Thuh-lo-nee-us”? I don’t get it! But he held me for awhile and he even sang me a song in Portuguese. I think he was hoping it would work as a lullaby, and maybe I did fall asleep eventually (it’s an active life I have!), but I understood the words. Like most bossa nova songs, it seemed to be about the virtues of dancing the samba. I don’t know why Uncle Michael is putting all this pressure on me. I can’t even hold up my head under my own power and he wants me to samba already?? I’m an Israeli baby, not Brazilian!

Speaking of lullabies, do you want to know what my Abba has been doing? Downloading lullaby versions of Cure albums! I know, I was surprised they made them too. Me, I don’t see why my Abba doesn’t think I’m ready for the real, full-on Cure. I wake up multiple times every night crying, I soil myself regularly, and my parents are so controlling that my room literally has bars around it – I’m totally in the Cure’s target audience! Give me some credit, Abba! Baby Tzofia wants some “Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me” without the glockenspiel!

But my Abba’s a little weird, I think. We were having a staring contest, and I lost because I saw something shiny, and you know what he did? He laughed and called me a loser! My own abba! Just wait until I start eating solid food, Abba. You’ll smell my revenge!

But really, other than that, it was a fun visit from Uncle Michael. I didn’t even cry hardly at all…well, except once. Uncle Michael came up to me and said, “Tzofia, ha’im avdah tikvateinu?” Oh, ha-ha, Uncle Michael! That’s so clever! So clever I’m going to start bawling! I’m only a week and a half old and I’m already sooooo tired of Israeli national anthem jokes. I can’t believe I have a whole life of these to look forward to, just because of my name. Can you imagine if your name was “Rockets’ red glare”??! Now you know how I feel.

Oh, and I hope everybody has been watching Heroes! It’s my favorite show – being able to telepathically patch in to all data networks means a steady stream of cribside entertainment when Ima and Abba think I’m sleeping. Abba may think Israeli superhero Hana Gitelman’s power is lame, but I’ll have the last laugh when I’m telepathically watching the Scrubs season finale hours before he’s done downloading it. But seriously, the last episode of Heroes was more awesome than a toy with dangling, multicolored rings, flashing lights and voice effects (and those are pretty awesome). Not only did my Hebrew homegirl Hana Gitelman make her series debut, Peter finally rocked his superpowers! It was such an exciting episode that I…well, let’s just say that if I could paint Abba and Ima’s future, it would have a lovely Impressionist rendering of a dirty diaper in it. Hey – I’m just a baby!!

And I guess you’ve all come to expect my trenchant commentary on the events of the day, so I’m going to bring your attention to the just-released statistics that immigration to Israel is down 9 percent this year! As the baby of immigrants, this concerns me. Do you fat, lazy Galut shtetl Jews think just because astoundingly cute sabras like me are born here every day, you can keep guiltlessly packing on pounds in your 4 bed, 3 and a half bath palaces in Exile? I’m spitting up right now. A spit-up of contempt. Israel is a special place. Make aliyah! Can your American baby telepathically blog, or does he just sit there like a lumpy sack of potatoes with regular bowel movements? I think you know.

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