I made them pizza for supper. The kind you buy frozen, put in the oven and ten minutes later, voila, dinner is ready. Kids love it, and when the IGA has a fresh batch delivered from Israel I usually buy a few.
So after dinner tonight one of the princes says to me “thank you, Ima, for throwing dinner in the oven”. I glared at him and told the brother sitting next to him to smack his sibling upside the head – gently. “What?? Whenever I say thank you for the pizza, you always say you didn’t make it, you just threw it in the oven. So I’m thanking you for that”. More glaring. Other brother explained to him that Ima is allowed to say it, but he isn’t. “You know, like when you tell Ima you like her dress, and she says ‘this old thing’ you can’t say you like that old thing / dress because it’s rude.”
“OK fine. Ima, thank you for slaving over a hot stove to make sure we had good food in our bellies tonight.”
“I just threw it in the oven, didn’t take much……..”
Kid muttered under his breath “WOMEN!”
(Must be Monday again)
Bank: Can I speak to MR Hadassah Sabo please
HSM: This is SHE
Bank: No I need to talk to your husband please, ma’am
HSM (sweetly, knowing there is no account in hubby’s name at this bank): What name do you have for him?
Bank: Hadassah Sabo
HSM: that’s me, that’s my name
Bank (confused): But you are a woman….it says MR here…are you sure?
HSM (edited slightly) :Sheesh! Yes I am freaking sure! I am indeed a woman, and darn tooting proud of it. Hadassah has been a woman’s name forever. I have banked at your institution for SIXTEEN years and you have me marked down as a man? Do I look like a man to your tellers? Noooo. When I opened my account I checked the FEMALE box. Because I am a woman. Yeah. I know what my name is, thank you very much, and I know that I am a woman. I birthed me plenty of babies – is that proof enough? I am secure in my female identity and I don’t need some two-bit telemarketer paid to read from a script on the phone to question my identity.
Bank: ok then, (clears throat and reads from script) I would like to ask some questions about the service you receive from the bank…
Posted in rant
Every store I went to today (other than the Jewish ones (and that’s a rant in and of itself)) had signs saying they accept donations for Haiti. In Canada the Canadian government is matching every donation dollar for dollar.
I am sick to my stomach and deeply ashamed of a fellow co-religionist. I was standing in line at the Walmart waiting to pay for my items, and chatting with the lady behind me, a member of the tribe. I don’t know her personally, but recognized her from “around”. When it was my turn to pay, I asked the cashier to please add a 10 dollar donation to the Red Cross to go to Haiti. The cashier thanked me very much. The MoT that was behind me came up to me and in a loud stage whisper said in a scathing tone “do you really want to give all your money to the schvartzers when there are Jews starving here at home?”
I was just so shocked and stunned that I couldn’t even think of an adequate retort. The racism shouldn’t really shock me. Unfortunately that’s something that many people in the community suffer from, and it sickens and saddens me. My children get their mouths washed out with soap if they ever say derogatory terms like that, for any ethnic group. By now, they know better. Unfortunately, a lot of their classmates do not. That being said, we are all Hashem’s creations. We are all God’s children. How dare someone say one person’s life is worth more than that of another? What ever happened to “whoever saves one life it’s as if he has saved the world?” Are people that close minded and tunnel-visioned that they don’t see this terrible Haitian disaster for what it really is – a colossal tragedy on an unimaginable scale? How can anyone judge another person for where and how they decide to give their charity? How does this woman know that I don’t support the local Jewish poor? How does she know anything about me? How can she fail to be moved by the human suffering over there? Fine, if she doesn’t want to donate, that’s totally her prerogative, but to criticize someone else?
I am beyond angry.
Please make a donation to the Canadian Red Cross, or your local aid organization. If you have any links to Jewish Organizations who are raising money, please email me or post them here in the comments.
Today I heard of the engagement of the daughter of a friend. Mazel tov! What you need to know is this: this is the daughter of a classmate of ours from high school. I am only 36 years old!! This is the start of the next generation of weddings and births…. My friend is going to be a mother in law, and potentially a grandmother, way before she turns 40! Yet we have classmates who have just started their marriages and families, and here she is starting the second generation. Just…..wow.
Suddenly I feel really old and I know I shouldn’t. I didn’t get married at 17. I was 21. Still too young. I had my first child at 22 which is very young. I will still be a young grandma once my kids get married and give me grandbabies after they have finished their degrees. Truth be told, I still feel like I am 25.
I am sure there will be more engagements very soon, we had a bunch of classmates get married at 17 and 18. This was the first. It seems to have knocked a lot of us for six!
Posted in essay
What do you consider a fight, when I mention a marital spat? Do you consider any difference of opinion a fight or do things have to be thrown? Do you fight fair, or do you dredge up past misdeeds in order to underline your point? Do you name call? Do you ignore the other party for days until someone apologizes, preferably not you because you were never wrong in the first place?
I bring this up because the KoD and I cannot agree on what constitutes a fight in our marriage. I maintain we have had two. He says they weren’t fights because we talked it through, were not rude nor bitchy, didn’t throw things (hard to throw things when you are hundreds of miles away) and we didn’t ignore each other for days on end. I maintain that as soon as one party is pissed off at the other and has his/her hackles rise, that’s a fight right there. Raised voices, difference of opinion, seeing red, tears – that all means FIGHT to me.
What say you?
Thank you so much for two uneventful border crossings this weekend, and two very smooth 6 hour drives. Thank you for bringing me to my KoD safely, and bringing me back to my boys in one piece, with tremendous peace of mind. Thank you for making it possible for me to rent a car at a good price. Thank you for letting me have an awesome weekend with the KoD and again reminding me how blessed I am to have him in my life.
Posted in family, marriage