How to tell if you are raising an Israeli

This morning over breakfast in the sukkah I casually mentioned to the kids that since their mom had some work to do today in her studio, maybe we could go into Jerusalem and do something that she wouldn't mind missing out on (code for something she despises).

The two kids knew immediately what I was talking about, but waited expectantly for me to say the word.

Yonah, on the other hand, is less schooled in his mother's likes and dislikes, so he asked, "What?... what are we doing today?!"

To which I answered, "We're going bowling!".

Ariella and Gilad both gave out a cheer (being lovers of The Big Lebowski and the occasional 'caucasian'). But Yonah didn't understand the word, and asked, "what's bowling?".

I was shocked that he didn't know what it was, but gave him the benefit of the doubt and performed an elaborate pantomime of picking up the heavy ball and rolling it towards some imaginary pins.

Suddenly a little light went on over his head and he shouted, "oh, you mean BOW-ling!" (with the first syllable pronounced like the formal act of bending at the waist).

Zahava and I just looked at one another and laughed. Try as we may to see that he grows up speaking English like an American, we have resigned ourselves to the fact that a few Israeli-isms will find their way through. BOW-ling apparently snuck in under the radar.

BTW, Yonah BOWled an excellent game.