Brother, Can You Spare a Gold Cap

I didn’t like Hebrew school very much for a couple of reasons. First of all, Shoshana, the prettier of the two girls in class, never paid much attention to me. Some of the other boys in class were more roguish and savvy-tongued than a freckle-faced, strawberry-haired kid like me (who was nothing more than merely cute and sensitive), and Shoshana laughed at their antics, not mine.

She always tried to sit next to them, not me. A kid named Jeff, in particular, seemed to hold a special attraction for her because he had a gold cap on one of his teeth that he liked to flash around, like Bad, Bad, Leroy Brownstein.


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