Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

46 Adr. Monday and Other Tales of Jewish Amsterdam

Yet, in all honesty, I must admit it seemed that sometimes Mr. Lebovitz could give good counsel. And not only on business matters. Mr. Lebovitz interfered frequently in all our household affairs.

As an example of his influence, let me tell you the story of two girls, sisters they were, in the neighbourhood—in our own rundown apartment building .They lived on the second floor and even as a boy, I realised there was something strange about those two. By day they usually slept but when dusk came, they went outdoors to saunter around, always elegantly dressed. High fashion shoes and, rain or sunshine, white parasols. Their names were Rosa and Dina Sunschein.

"Better—they should have been named Rosa and Dina Moonschein," said Grandmother.

"They are like a pair of owls," added Father. "They never come home before two o'clock in the morning."

"If I were you, I wouldn't take so much notice of those two," interjected Mother.

After she said that, Father did not take notice for a couple of days. But then suddenly, from a chance remark, it became apparent that he had not let the sauntering sisters out of his sight for one single second.

"A man does not walk around with his eyes in his pocket," he would say apologetically. "I see what I see. You cannot blame a man for that."

"Your shmooz is good but your arguments are bad," sneered Grandmother.

"Mr. Lebovitz says, 'Just because you love one woman, it doesn't mean you have to hate all other women as if they were enemies,'" Father answered.