For lo, the matza is past, the gefilte fish is over and gone, the waffles appear on the earth, the time of the pasta is come.
Last night E ate two warm rolls, fresh from the pizza parlor, and, miraculously, her stomach ache disappeared and her good humor returned. There were crepes for breakfast this morning, there is pasta in her thermos for lunch, Dice-K is pitching, and all is right with the world. (Even though I didn't sleep again last night, which was totally ridiculous given how little I slept the night before.)
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