Sometimes old people have really old-fashioned ideas, but that doesn't mean I have to go along with them.
I need my grandparents, but in a certain sense they need me too. From now on I'll be free on Wednesday evenings.
You see, my grandparents made me sign up for a wood-carving class, but actually I go to a club organized by the Zionists.
My grandparents don't want me to go, because they're anti-Zionists. I'm not a fanatic Zionist, but it interests me.
Anyway, it's been such a mess lately that I'm planning to quit. So next Wednesday will be my last meeting.
That means I can see you Wednesday evening, Saturday afternoon, Saturday evening, Sunday afternoon and maybe even more.”
“But if your grandparents don't want you to, you shouldn't go behind their backs.”
“All's fair in love and war.” Just then we passed Blankevoort's Bookstore and there was Peter Schiff with two other boys;
it was the first time he'd said hello to me in ages, and it really made me feel good.
Monday evening Hello came over to meet Father and Mother. I had bought a cake and some candy, and we had tea and cookies, the works,
but neither Hello nor I felt like sitting stiffly on our chairs.
So we went out for a walk, and he didn't deliver me to my door until ten past eight. Father was furious.
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