A mom and her small child get into the elevator with me…
Me (to child): “Ooooh! And what are YOU dressed up as for Halloween? Whatever it is, you look awesome!”
Child: <blank, confused stare>
Mom: “Oh she has no idea it’s Halloween. We don’t celebrate it. This is just what she decided to wear today.”
Oh.
Well then she looks ABSURD.
I am embarrassed to admit that I went against everything I believe in as a chocolate-lover and general knower-of-juvenile-things and purchased the cheapest bag of Halloween candy I could find for our trick-or-treaters. I’m sorry, Society, but $16 for the Hershey favorites variety pack that only included 40 pieces seemed insane (and Whoopers in the pack?! No. NOT a favorite and they should be ashamed to have included them. And don’t even get me started on the Almond Joy. In my childhood I could have fed an entire army on the pile of discarded Almond Joys I threw into the bottom corner of my closet. (“But Emily, if you hated them, why did you keep them in your closet?” Um, because when November 15th rolled around and I had polished off my top-ranked goods by including at least 7 pieces of candy in every meal for 2 weeks straight, I’d then enter the “Desperate Times” phase of sugar withdrawal and creep over to the reject stash in the middle of the night, while the rest of the house slumbered. I never claimed to be sane.)).
So, yeah. I went for the $5.00 generic brand, hoping that kids just won’t know the difference.
Because kids don’t notice when a peanut butter “cup” or a chocolate “bar” looks like it was driven over by a car and then stomped on by an angry little elf, right? And parents don’t mind when the wrapper is slightly torn and insides exposed, as if a mouse had already visited this piece of lesser-chocolate, and even the mouse was like, “eh, no thanks…”?*
Just add it to your “Desperate Times” stash, kids. You’ll thank me later. Like at 3:30am on November 16th.
*Still (slightly) better than Eric’s idea to hand out ziplock bags of homemade beef jerky.
This year we had two lovely, very inquisitive non-Jews at our Seder.
I did my best.
Guest: “And what does the maror symbolize?”
Me: “The bitterness of slavery.”
Guest: “And the charoset?”
Me: “The mortar the slaves used between the bricks when they were building for the Eygptian pharohs.”
Guest: “And how about the shank bone?”
Me: “That represents how the slaves passed the time all those years in the desert.”
(Silence)
Me: “They boned.”
Well there’s no more fitting way to say it–
Thank Christ it’s a 3-day weekend.
Me (correcting a kid’s work): “20 divided by 2 is 40? So you’re telling me that if I split these 20 cubes into 2 equal groups, I’d have 40 in each group? Does that make sense? Is it logical?”
Kid: “No.”
Me: “Exactly. So it can’t be true. Remember, you ALWAYS have to ask yourself does this make sense? Is it logical?”
(moments later)
Kid: “Santa is real, right?”
Me: “Of course…”
For me, Thanksgiving is all about handing your dad a tax document you don’t understand and begging him to please just take care of it for you.
It’s funny how when you spend an extended amount of time with family in close quarters over the holidays, everyone starts to get really snippy with one another. Like how my mom just gave me the most disgusted, horrified look in response to the most benign comment.
I only suggested we put the baby in the dryer for ONE cycle.
Kid: “Did you run the marathon just so you could eat all the turkey at Thanksgiving?”
Me: “That’s ridiculous.”
WHO TOLD HIM?!?!?!
Just now at Starbucks, the man in front of me in line, who spoke very limited English, happened to order (with some translation help from the barista) the same exact drink I always order. As we waited for our drinks at the bar, the man’s drink came up right away and the barista called it out– “venti iced hazelnut coffee!” This was clearly meant for him, as he ordered before me, but when the drink was called the man seemed to have no idea that it was his and that he should go take it. Meanwhile, I was in a rush, my drink wasn’t even being made yet, and I was very tempted to swipe his coffee and make a run for it.
In the end, I decided to be patient and respectful, and to inform the man that his drink was ready, rather than take advantage of his friendly ignorance and selfishly snatch what was rightfully his.
Why?
Because I’m not a dick, Columbus.
#columbusday #idontgetit
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