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The other day, I walked into a room and there was one of those bugs in it. You know the kind that looks like a centipede? It was orange? No? Just in my house? Anyway, because I am slightly unhinged, I yelled, “Dad, there is a scary bug — can you come and kill it please?” Now I know my dad can’t come and get it rid of it for me. But he was always the one who took care of these things. One weekend, I was on some NCSY shabbaton,...Continue Reading
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