Sunday, April 5, 2015

My Mental Cycle at a Passover Seder Literally Every Year of My Life(Except for the Lice Part)

Wow, it's been like what, six months since I went to synagogue? Maybe a year? Yeah, sounds about right. Shit. I'm already starving and we're like 100 pages away from eating anything that isn't parsley or horseradish.

That first glass of wine should be coming up any minute now. Aaaaaaany minute now ... Baruch Hashem! There it is. Boom. Down the hatch. Make that sip count. There's like 20 pages until you get the next one, remember?

What page are we on again? Oh right. This thing goes backwards. Why did my parents have to be atheists and not send me to Hebrew school like a normal Jewish kid? Is that why I can never find my place in this thing? I'm so confused. Let me look for someone who seems to know what they're doing and watch their lips and try to follow along half a beat behind.

Yay! More wine. I've heard this story 100 times and I still don't get it. It's a simple premise. Why does it feel confusing and long? Maybe because I never really paid any attention all these years? And I was always thinking about brisket instead of how my people were enslaved 1,000 years ago in Egypt? That must be it. Either that, or I'm even stupider than I thought.

Oh my God ... I can't wait for brisket. Brisket is the only thing that comes even CLOSE to being as good as even ONE thing that's in an Easter basket. It's certainly not gefilte fish. That much I know.

Wow, I TOTALLY forgot that lice was one of the plagues. As it so happens, lice was also one of the plagues at Paige's Girl Scout Camp last summer. Just glad it wasn't boils or slaying of the first born. Both of those would have been significantly more problematic. (The lice was still pretty gross, though) ...

Oh yay! It's time to eat!

[20 minutes later...]

Wait, what? There's more? I forgot all about the second part of this. I need like 60 macaroons now. There. That's better... Next year in Jerusalem. They always say that, but we're always right back here. Why do we have to pretend we're going to be in Jerusalem next year? How come we can't just admit that we're all most likely still going to be right here in the good old U.S. of A, or at best, Mexico or Canada?

Rise and repeat.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.