Help! A vaccum cleaner!
Most children living in a strip of land overrun by trigger happy soldiers, Merkava tanks, and sewage might be afraid of loud noises and machine gun ricochets (that and putrid smelling water). Not Yousuf. Those he tackles fearlessly, having become accustomed to F-16s swooping overhead and the pounding of shells (even while in the womb)
His latest phobia: vaccum cleaners. My father was cleaning the carpets today, and the boy crawled to save his life, wailing in horror, fingernails clenched deep within mother's back. Tanks, bad...vacuum cleaner, good, I tried to explain. Perhaps it was an incident of friendly fire. But how will I explain this to his therapist years from now?