Arnon Grunberg



My godson is sleeping over. When we arrived in the hotel he insisted on eating a toasted cheese-sandwich. I ordered one for him, but he got four.
“No, no,” I said. “You eat two. That’s it.”
He couldn’t open a package of ketchup and I didn’t manage to do it either, so I went to the bathroom and got my nail scissors.
“You are smart,” he said.
“Smart is not the first word that comes to mind.”
Then I looked at him with the nail scissors in my hand while he was munching on ketchup with a bit of toasted cheese sandwich in between. He appeared to be happy. It was almost 10:30 p.m.
“Don’t give me this look,” he said. “Tomorrow is Good Friday.”
“I don’t celebrate Good Friday.”
“Get over your prejudices, Good Friday is as good a holiday as any other.”

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