April 7, 2007

Jeffrey and I were invited to attend not one but TWO Passover dinners on the same day, one overlapping the other, just like the Stovetop commercials. Racing through Trader Joe's before driving over to the first meal, we decide to split up — Jeff will be responsible for getting a side dish for the first dinner, and I will be responsible for the second.

We have a lovely time at the first dinner; I meet lots of excellent people and get the wondrous and overwhelming sensation of being a part of a global community. We are all related, we are all family, we have something to share even if we have nothing to say. Everyone takes turns reading the Haggadah and we sing in Hebrew and English and nod at the orange on the Seder plate and dip our fingers into the Manischewitz and pile as much charoses on one piece of matzoh as possible.

And, alas, we have to leave before the final glass of wine because we are feelin' the Pesach love today, and must depart for the next celebration.

We park Jeff's little Metro outside of the Sojourn space and walk toward the festivities, when I remember I have left the side dish in the car. I run back and tuck the giant loaf of French bread under my arm as Jeff waits for me, hands in his pockets, looking dressy and nice.

Then…

…wait, did you say bread?

We walk through the door and look at all of the lovely people who turn and smile at us and this is when I realize the significance of what we have brought to share. "Bread!" I exclaim to Jeff! "It's leavened! It's leavened!" I start to run outside but Jeff, in a panic, grabs the bread and violently throws it into a pile of jackets in an attempt to hide our uneducated contribution. "No! We have to get it out of the room," I hurredly whisper, but it's too late, everyone is looking at us, perplexed by the sudden hubbub. We just smile and laugh and pretend that we have not just hidden a tasty baguette in a pile of outerware.

Moral: Do not let shiksas and or Buddhists choose the side dishes for Passover. You might think that the your house is all Kosherized, but there will most certainly be leavened bread hastily stuffed behind your coat rack or in with the umbrellas or atop the lintel.

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