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Jolly Solly

R. Atkins

Somehow, Mrs. Faigelbaum always seemed to know just how to handle Efraim. Mr. Faigelbaum sighed. It looked like it was going to be a long day.

Wednesday, June 01, 2016

Efraim Faigelbaum waved goodbye to his mother, who was leaving to visit a sick aunt in a different city. She would be away until that night. Then he toddled back into the house alongside his father, chattering away in baby language. It sounded like he was saying, “bobboh gobboh dillah doh.” Mr. Faigelbaum wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Was he supposed to say “bobboh gobboh dillah doh” back, or spout some other gibberish instead? Somehow, Mrs. Faigelbaum always seemed to know just how to handle Efraim. Mr. Faigelbaum sighed. It looked like it was going to be a long day. Before closing the front door, Mr. Faigelbaum couldn’t resist a look at the sky, in the hope of spotting a bird or two. As a passionate bird-watcher, he liked nothing better than spotting as many different types of feathered friends as possible. He was rewarded with a glimpse of a grebe flying past. It was either a great-crested grebe, or a black-necked grebe. Mr. Faigelbaum would have loved to check exactly which, but duty called, and he knew he needed to give Efraim his breakfast, in accordance with the strict instructions left by his wife.


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