Jiminy Crickets, is today over yet? I'm not normally a wish-the-time-away kind of person, but following a night that can only be described as ROOF as HR recovers from this stupid virus, and the dogpile of insanity at the workplace besides, I'm ready to turn off and gets to celebrating.
I honestly can't believe that my nephew will be making his Bar Mitzvah this weekend. I've known him all his life, he was just a clump of zygotes in attendance on my wedding day, and now for all intents and purposes he is a man. Strangely enough, this will be my first ever Bar Mitzvah. I didn't know many Jewish people growing up outside of Seinfeld and Judy Blume characters, there were maybe two or three families in my rural enclave, so it wasn't until I grew up and moved to the Big City (I like to say that with my thumbs tucked into my suspenders) that the world opened up for me, diversity-wise, and I realized that Bar and Bat Mitvahs were a wonderful part of life, milestones that happened all the time and weren't just an exotically confounding plot point in Blubber. I'm thrilled that my first big celebration of this sort is for someone I love and know so well. Also, we're gonna party like it's 1999. Fitting, as it is the year in which he was born.
I've been trying to teach HR to say "Mazel Tov!" for the occasion, but so far his version consists of flinging his arms up, touchdown style, and saying, "MAMA! To Danny!" Close enough, I say. My sister and her husband will be babysitting him at the hotel during most of the festivities anyway, but it'll be nice for him to get a big dose of his extended family that he doesn't see so frequently, even if he might scare them off as he currently resembles the world's tiniest leper. At least he's no longer contagious, and again, in the scheme of things, this is nothin'.
Now I just hope there's not a full moon...
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