It’s the eighth night of Hanukkah, and here is our test tube menorah.
Even though M wisely pre-poured the food coloring in on the first night (to minimize the chance the kids would try and do it and permanently dye half the house), each night when Bennett took it upon himself to fill a new vial with water, he managed to drip food coloring all over the kitchen.
There’s a lot of sadness all around right now. My heart and mind are consumed by thoughts of those little first graders, children Francie’s age, and the gaping holes that were left in each of their families. I suppose if eight nights of oil (or food coloring) was a miracle, so is each day.
Happy last day of Hanukkah.