Being a good parent in Gaza means developing a knack for what IsraelвЂ™s drones and F-16s will do next. We have to learn to read the patterns of IsraelвЂ™s wanton strikes. As my friend Hassan Arafat tweeted: вЂњWe do not sleep we just faint with fatigue.вЂќ There are no high-tech warning systems here to alert us to incoming missiles or tell us to take shelter. Most Gazans I know have barely gotten any rest since the beginning of the week. On Tuesday, when I asked the question, Linah and Amal replied nervously, in unison: вЂњHilwa.вЂќ вЂњNice.вЂќ No more. Now I say the kittens belong to a little girl named Amol and they only fall sick and are nurtured back to health because Amol is good-hearted and caring. In the original version of one tale IвЂ™ve made up for the children, two kittens die of neglect because their owner is careless. IвЂ™ve since taken to tweaking the stories because of the bombings. It was a mistake that I will try not to repeat. On Monday, caught off guard by the attacks, I didnвЂ™t tell my kids their bedtime stories as usual. I looked at her and promised to take her to get the biggest cake when вЂњthisвЂќ is over. When I got back, we managed a muted rendition of вЂњSenna HelwaвЂќ (вЂњHappy BirthdayвЂќ), far less raucously than weвЂ™d usually sing it. I bought Amal her favorite treats: Jordan almonds and chocolate biscuits. I sneaked out of the house, making sure not to wear my Covid-19 mask, lest the Israeli drones mistake me for a target trying to hide. вЂњBut we cannot give in to Israel,вЂќ Nusayba said. This is no time for celebrations or cakes.

Sure, dozens of families in Gaza have lost their homes in the past few days, and scores of people have died.

My wife, Nusayba, insisted on celebrating anyway.

Missile commander birthday cake