For the new year, I’ve decided on a special gift for you: an awful, disgusting, yucky ancient Moroccan soup. Just because I love you so much!
Every Christmas we get sick. Not sure what is it with us and this holiday but it’s pretty much a tradition now. I can put it on the calender for next year, this way maybe I’ll remember to prepare some freezer meals ahead of time.
Was it a cold? Or maybe the flu? You know… Runny nose, fever, coughing, overall weakness and very bad kind of feeling.
We were sick for a couple of days before I broke down. I needed my mommy! (Do you know this feeling? When you feel so bad you can’t get out of bed and all you can think of is why, oh WHY, did you make the decision to leave your mother’s house!)
Well, my mom lives about 6,135 miles away…. But I had to hear her voice.
It wasn’t hard for her to figure I felt like dog poop.
“Just make La’Hashu!” She said. Now, my mother comes from a Moroccan home. She was born in Israel but her parents are as Moroccan as one can be. She speaks Arabic fluently and often mixes Hebrew and Arabic together, kind of like Spanglish. Every time she pulls an Arabic word I listen carefully… There is always something either good, tasty, or interesting behind it.
“La’What?” I asked.