I used to think converting to Judaism for my boyfriend would be simple since I’m not that attached to Jesus and love matzo ball soup. I mean, my boyfriend is basically perfect. He’s a sexy attorney who shares my love of gummi bears, vodka and horror films. Before moving in together I was a lot like OJ – I had a team of attorneys. Now he fixes all of my legal woes pro bono! In addition, he walks my dog for me every morning, does the laundry and enjoys watching me take a year and a half to get ready before we go anywhere. He can’t dance, let’s me watch Rock of Love every Sunday and always makes sure the refrigerator is stocked with diet coke. Actually, he would be perfect if it weren’t for the fact that he’s a Jew who considers a dog bone a religious symbol.
My boyfriend and I decided to temporarily check out of our technology obsessed lives and spend the weekend detoxing and rejuvenating at his parents’ country home. We packed the SUV with movies, food and Butters, my dog. Ok, and 2 bottles of wine. I still consider 2 bottles of wine a detoxifying weekend! Upon arriving, my boyfriend immediately set to work unpacking the car while Butters and I explored.
Since Butters and I both enjoy a good meal, we investigated the food supply first. I started munching on Twizzlers and a Popsicle but was unable to unearth anything adequate for Butters’ discerning palate. The Vet recommended putting Butters on a diet, so I vowed not to give him anymore human food. I tried feeding him some weird Gourmet Kitty treat, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Then I remembered seeing a ziplocked bone in the freezer.
“Oh my God…. HONEY!! Your parents are soooo sweet. They put away a treat for Butters!” I announced as my boyfriend carried in the 3rd suitcase. He grunted and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I mean, I guess it’s for Butters…. Why else would they ziplock a bone and put it in the freezer?”
No response. My boyfriend is very good at tuning out what he calls “Vanessa fuzz” when he’s trying to get something done.
“Butters, look!” I swung the ziplocked bag in front of him. “Doesn’t this look yummy? Yes, it looks soooo yummy.” Butters howled, jumped up, grabbed the ziplocked bag, and then ran out the door into the yard as my boyfriend teeter tottered the 4th suitcase on the front steps.
“What does he have in his mouth?” my boyfriend asked.
“Some bone your parents had ziplocked in the freezer. I think they saved it especially for Butters! Isn’t that sweet? They must really like him.”
“Wait… WHAT?” My boyfriend bolted, chasing Butters through the muddy croquet court, past the guesthouse, into the dense, bordering woods. “Butttttterrrrrrsssssss!!! Buttttterrrrssss!!!!!”
My boyfriend emerged from the forest carrying my filthy dog in one arm and the half eaten bone in his back pocket.
“Thank you so much for going after him! Who knows if he would have found his way back,” I offered, throwing my arms around him and Butters.
“Get. Off. Me. Please.” He set Butters down, then disappeared into the pantry.
I knew something serious and bad had just occurred and it was most likely my fault, but wasn’t exactly sure what.
“Are you upset your shirt is dirty?” I guessed.
No answer.
“Are you upset your shoes are muddy?”
No answer.
He emerged a few moments later with a new ziplock bag.
“What’s the matter, honey?” I asked.
“Let’s just say that you just pissed in the holy water, dear.” He walked to the sink, washed the earth from the bone and wordlessly placed it in the ziplock bag.
Ugh oh.
“Honey? Umm.. what do you mean I pissed in the holy water?”
He carefully placed the bone back in the freezer, closed his eyes and then massaged his temples. “My now deceased grandparents purchased this lamb shank from a Kosher butcher 70 years ago. 70 years. 70 years! My family has used this bone in our Seder Passover meal for the last 70 years!!” he screamed.
“70 years? Why on earth would anyone keep an old bone that long? That’s ridiculous! Is it like a lucky bone or something?” I asked, thinking of the wishbones my grandpa used to give me after our Thanksgiving meal.
“The zeroa is not eaten or even touched. It is the most integral part of one of Judaism’s most celebrated holidays.”
“The zeroa?” I raised my eyebrows in confusion.
“The lamb shank bone, or zeroa, symbolizes the Pesach, meaning the lamb that was sacrificed during the first Passover, when God posach ("passed over" in Hebrew) the homes of the Hebrews and killed the first-born son in each Egyptian household. It also symbolizes the later Passover offering brought to the first and second Temples in Jerusalem. It is not eaten but simply serves as a reminder and symbol… a 70 year old symbol…” He went on to explain the meaning of and traditions associated to Passover.
My boyfriend and I decided to temporarily check out of our technology obsessed lives and spend the weekend detoxing and rejuvenating at his parents’ country home. We packed the SUV with movies, food and Butters, my dog. Ok, and 2 bottles of wine. I still consider 2 bottles of wine a detoxifying weekend! Upon arriving, my boyfriend immediately set to work unpacking the car while Butters and I explored.
Since Butters and I both enjoy a good meal, we investigated the food supply first. I started munching on Twizzlers and a Popsicle but was unable to unearth anything adequate for Butters’ discerning palate. The Vet recommended putting Butters on a diet, so I vowed not to give him anymore human food. I tried feeding him some weird Gourmet Kitty treat, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Then I remembered seeing a ziplocked bone in the freezer.
“Oh my God…. HONEY!! Your parents are soooo sweet. They put away a treat for Butters!” I announced as my boyfriend carried in the 3rd suitcase. He grunted and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I mean, I guess it’s for Butters…. Why else would they ziplock a bone and put it in the freezer?”
No response. My boyfriend is very good at tuning out what he calls “Vanessa fuzz” when he’s trying to get something done.
“Butters, look!” I swung the ziplocked bag in front of him. “Doesn’t this look yummy? Yes, it looks soooo yummy.” Butters howled, jumped up, grabbed the ziplocked bag, and then ran out the door into the yard as my boyfriend teeter tottered the 4th suitcase on the front steps.
“What does he have in his mouth?” my boyfriend asked.
“Some bone your parents had ziplocked in the freezer. I think they saved it especially for Butters! Isn’t that sweet? They must really like him.”
“Wait… WHAT?” My boyfriend bolted, chasing Butters through the muddy croquet court, past the guesthouse, into the dense, bordering woods. “Butttttterrrrrrsssssss!!! Buttttterrrrssss!!!!!”
My boyfriend emerged from the forest carrying my filthy dog in one arm and the half eaten bone in his back pocket.
“Thank you so much for going after him! Who knows if he would have found his way back,” I offered, throwing my arms around him and Butters.
“Get. Off. Me. Please.” He set Butters down, then disappeared into the pantry.
I knew something serious and bad had just occurred and it was most likely my fault, but wasn’t exactly sure what.
“Are you upset your shirt is dirty?” I guessed.
No answer.
“Are you upset your shoes are muddy?”
No answer.
He emerged a few moments later with a new ziplock bag.
“What’s the matter, honey?” I asked.
“Let’s just say that you just pissed in the holy water, dear.” He walked to the sink, washed the earth from the bone and wordlessly placed it in the ziplock bag.
Ugh oh.
“Honey? Umm.. what do you mean I pissed in the holy water?”
He carefully placed the bone back in the freezer, closed his eyes and then massaged his temples. “My now deceased grandparents purchased this lamb shank from a Kosher butcher 70 years ago. 70 years. 70 years! My family has used this bone in our Seder Passover meal for the last 70 years!!” he screamed.
“70 years? Why on earth would anyone keep an old bone that long? That’s ridiculous! Is it like a lucky bone or something?” I asked, thinking of the wishbones my grandpa used to give me after our Thanksgiving meal.
“The zeroa is not eaten or even touched. It is the most integral part of one of Judaism’s most celebrated holidays.”
“The zeroa?” I raised my eyebrows in confusion.
“The lamb shank bone, or zeroa, symbolizes the Pesach, meaning the lamb that was sacrificed during the first Passover, when God posach ("passed over" in Hebrew) the homes of the Hebrews and killed the first-born son in each Egyptian household. It also symbolizes the later Passover offering brought to the first and second Temples in Jerusalem. It is not eaten but simply serves as a reminder and symbol… a 70 year old symbol…” He went on to explain the meaning of and traditions associated to Passover.
Interfaith dating is a lot like trying to date while studying abroad. So much gets lost in translation! It’s frightening how seemingly innocent actions can cause so much tribulation. I know now that a long-term relationship with my almost perfect Jew will require a lot more than munching on bagels, lighting the menorah, spinning dreidels and an affinity for gelt. Luckily for me there are 6 symbolic foods used during the Seder. In view of that, I only ruined approximately 17% of the Passover meal, the 17% that symbolizes liberation. I left anything having to do with life and rebirth intact. Fittingly, my boyfriend was understanding and didn’t seek liberation from me. Instead, after popping a couple Xanax, we ordered in some chicken wings and did our best to convincingly replace the zeroa.
Just to be clear- your boyfriend is a fat, nasty, hairy, "Jew" who looks like he could be your father. Kudos to you if that's the best you can do. But hey, you do only care about money, right? You're probably perfect for each other.
ReplyDeleteAnomy,
ReplyDeleteG-d Damn, I'm sorry Vannessa reminds you of the torment you received in High School. News flash, douche-reality tv isn't that real. Vanessa, I commend you for being smart. You write a good blog. You may act like a conniving bitch, but at least I can't call you dumb.