#ours

#hisnhers #hersnhers #hisnhis #loveislove 

One day it will just be #ours with no need for “coming out”


#kalestillsucks

The state of the union.

Twas my anniversary. I have officially been married to TH for 12 years! How a Blue Ribbon holds on to a Trophy I have no clue, but I’ve fooled him for this long so if I keep going as I’m going I should be good for a few more years.

Every year, TH and I have a state of the union. The state of our union lately has been about me having food crusted somewhere on my face, spilled mocha on my white t-shirt and my excessive use of our quarters to vaccum my car…to which then he corrected to “our” car…to which I then corrected to “your” car since he paid for it…so I’m taking time out of MY busy day to vacuum YOUR car, honey.

In other words, things are status quo. I see no need to discuss the Union’s economy; but since he’s in finance (pronounced fin-ANCE), I can’t avoid that topic and my silly pronounciation of it does not deter him from entering into the convo.

Finances with summer camps coming up is a tough one. I pulled out my spreadsheet detailing which camps all versions were going to and how much each one cost. Said spreadsheet was then “marked up” (aka half the camps were crossed out, especially the one week were 1.0 was overlapping with 2 camps…it made sense at the time). 

To start taking the focus away from finances, I then proceeded to tell TH that for our anniversary I bought something really “cute” for later. He laughed and said, “Yeah I saw the $200 pair of jeans in our closet, you need to return those.” 

Fine, let’s celebrate by going out for wings and seeing Guardians of the Galaxy 2. That’s a BRW’s real version of “something cute for later.” Sold. 

That’s not a thing.

Four years ago, TH and I found out we were downloading 3.0.

IMG_2539 2

So Mother’s Day become a bit more sentimental to me because of that faint little plus sign. And every year, we get a little nostalgic and TH says to me, “Let’s do it again. Let’s have 4.0.”¬†And then this follows:

 

Shaygetz.

The Shiksa gets a lot of attention in our society. We all have those Hebrew school friends we grew up with that ended up marrying a non Jewish girl…(insert whisper: the shiksa). And I’m not sure if there is an equivalent to the non Jews for a boy who marries a Jewish girl…I think that’s just because they don’t have the benefit of a secret language like Yiddish. But luckily, there is a name for Trophy Husband among the Jews. He’s a shaygetz – a non Jewish boy married to a Jewish girl…(insert whisper: oy vey).

Shaygetz don’t get as much attention as shiksas. I think that has something to do with the fact that the Jewish grandmothers are content knowing a Jewish woman is still in the kitchen (they clearly don’t know me). But man, being a Jewish girl and marrying outside the tribe has resulted in some doozies. Like the time I received a Hanukkah gift from TH’s relative that was a porcelain soap dispenser in the shape of a Christmas tree. Or when TH received a book wrapped in this:

wrapping paper

Actually, this was the paper on a gift to TH from my mom who was giving him a Christmas present. She was trying to “be Christmas-y.” He saw it and said, “That’s the most goyishe wrapping paper I’ve ever seen.” (side note: definition of goyishe)

I’ve also noticed the quite pleasant tradition of walking into any dinner party and immediately being handed an alcoholic drink rather than a knish. Priorities. And imagine my excitement when we had this for dinner one night:

ham

I mean, I had NO idea it was actually a spiral until I saw it in person. I literally yelled across the room to TH and said, “OMG it really is a spiral!” Get that shaygetz¬†more alcohol and give that girl a knish to shut her up!

While we are talking about food, be careful about talking about food. An announcement was made at a Shabbat dinner where TH’s relative announced her rolls were so good because she made them with lard. Um…if it ain’t Fleischmann’s…it ain’t Kosher. I jest…but not really.

I personally think TH handles being a shaygetz pretty well. Most people think he’s Jewish anyway. He doesn’t have a workbench in our garage (as he shouldn’t, he’s trophy), he likes gefilte fish (ugh), and he enjoys using the term “chutzpah” in a sentence…but who doesn’t?!

We’ll see if he ever converts. He’s considering it, mostly because he really wants to have a Bar Mitzvah (Mazel Tov!) so he can have a Bar Mitzvah party in Las Vegas (such mishegoss).

 

 

So…

How is everybody feeling tonight?

Been awhile since I’ve written…a lot can happen in 2+ years: one can graduate from an LLM program, start a new job, sell a house/move into a temporary house, go out without kids for new year’s eve for the first time in 9 years, and then watch pigs fly…I mean witness the Presidential Inauguration of Donald J. Trump.

I truly don’t like to speak to such heavy topics. So instead, I’ll tell you a story about ordering a cake for a birthday party.

Set the scene: Me, standing at the local supermarket bakery counter, flipping through the theme options booklet.

A woman approaches and states, “Can I help you with your cake order?”

“Yes, that would be great. I’m looking for the theme ‘Lion Guard,’ do you have that?”

“How would I know? I don’t make the cakes…I know nothing about the cakes.”

“Oh, so when you asked if you could help me, you were kidding?” Weird sense of humor this one.

She then proceeds to walk behind the counter…to the area where they make the stuff, pics up a photograph that must have been sitting on the counter and says, “You put this here? This is your picture?”

“Uh…no…I don’t go behind the bakery counter uninvited.” But man, now that I know I can…

“Then who put it here?”

Um…