Page 27 - To Family with Love

was submitting yet another basement report to him, my ma sud- denly started yelling from the fourth floor:
− Come home right away, your dad has gone mad!!!
Why does the whole neighborhood always have to hear about every success of ours?
I left in an instant, although there was still some liquorice toffees left in my friend’s pockets.
I ran for the hills by elevator, and when I stormed into the apartment, I couldn’t believe my eyes: my old man was in a den- im suit, sneakers on his feet, sunglasses on his nose, a rosary around his neck and a Kalashnikov over his shoulder.
− Is there a call for Clint Eastwood’s stunt doubles some- where?
− No, that’s him going to war!!!
− Dad, are you nuts? You never even served in the army! You have no idea whatsoever how to use that thing on your shoulder.
− I assume he knows, because he spent all our savings on it.
My old man just stood there proudly as a triumphant warri- or, just like so many other warriors who had gone to war before him, and who, before their departure, also had to say a dignified farewell to their families, who probably took it just as zealously and enthusiastically as my ma.
− You idiot, are you even aware of what you’re doing to us; what will happen to us if you get hurt; you think anyone will ask questions if you don’t come back; at least think of our child, since you obviously don’t care about me!!
Consoled by those warm words of support, my old man just kept quiet, and ma told me that he had made a pact with those crazy card game buddies of his, because allegedly they could no longer squat in holes like rats and helplessly watch the enemy conquer and destroy our villages and cities, and thought that an- yone who cared at least a tiny bit for their homeland should go
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