The Baghdaddy Is Home!
Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the prayers and well wishes. We picked the Baghdaddy up this afternoon at the airport and have gotten him home safely. He was in Iraq for six months, with two months of training in North Carolina before that. Relatively, that’s not really that long. We have friends with spouses gone a year or more. Please continue to pray for the safe return of all of our service members overseas, especially in combat zones.
We will be enjoying some family time together for the next few days. Please know we aren’t trying to avoid any of you–we are just relishing every moment we have together. Trying to get used to one another again without getting annoyed with each other. 
More later!
The Cat Who Celebrated Passover
(. . .with apologies to Lilian Jackson Braun.)
Apparently, it’s now in vogue for some Christians to celebrate the Jewish Passover holiday. Seems like in every church I’ve attended recently, there have been groups of people holding a Seder for the Passover. I know that it’s part of the Old Testament history, but it still seems a little strange to me for Christians with little or no Jewish ancestry to celebrate this ritual.
Jews use the holiday to commemorate the escape of their people from Egypt after being held as slaves. A lot of the Seder meal is symbolic of different aspects of this enslavement and journey to freedom. I respect my Jewish friends remembering this huge event in their heritage. I’d be honored to be a guest at their Passover. I just feel a little odd holding my own ritual for their heritage. It’s as if I suddenly decided to start celebrating the Japanese National Foundation Day to commemorate the day in 660 BC when the first Japanese Emperor was crowned. (If you can’t tell by my picture, my family tree doesn’t seem to have an Asian branch.)
Let’s face it, the Old Testament Jews were not my people. The majority of my ancestors were skipping around Great Britain, drinking their G&T’s, probably worried that the new Stonehenge atrocity was going to drive down their property values. “Once the Druids moved in, the neighborhood was shot to hell.” Here’s a shock–I’ve digressed.
So my Bible study ladies decided to have a Seder this week. They said that they wanted it to be very reverent and respectful. At first I thought that meant I wasn’t invited. But it turns out that they were counting on me to bring the wine. I go to a church that doesn’t believe in drinking alcohol. Despite that, the people are nice, so we’ve stayed there–the rebellious children in the back row.
I researched a few traditional recipes and decided to make a baked whitefish with dill and tomato cucumber relish, Black Forest brownies, and macaroons. When I got up to the small Passover section at the local grocery store, I found that there were ready-made macaroons already there. I love easy. That leaves the fish and the brownies. I don’t want to sound insensitive here, but that fish in the jars is pretty disgusting-looking. I decided to pick up some fresh when I shopped today. I did get the little book that had the whole Passover service written out. The internet gave me more info about the service. A “fast” service can be done in three hours. THREE HOURS?! “FAST”?! I better get another bottle of Mogen David. Or two.
I bought the fish while I was out today. I don’t usually buy fresh fish–I forgot how much it can smell. All the grocery bags wound up in the middle of the kitchen floor while I made BabyGirl’s lunch and ran laundry up and down the stairs. As I walked through the living room, I tripped over . . .the fish. Sitting on the carpet. Wet with fish juice on the outside. What the heck? I glanced around the room and spied the cat, sitting in the front window, bathing her paws and face like a junkie covered in heroin. The fish had been wrapped so that one small corner of a fillet hung over the edge of the styrofoam tray. There was the tiniest hole torn over this corner. She could not have gotten much, but she was as happy as a lion that has eaten a whole zebra out on the savanna. (If any of the Bible study ladies are reading this, I tossed that fillet. Promise!)
Keep the fingers crossed that my brownies and the Charoset I’m making for the Seder plate turn out OK. And that I have some Manischewitz left for the recipes. By the way, here’s an early Happy Xotira va Qadirlash Kuni shout out! (Uzbekistan’s Remembrance Day–May 9th. Not my people, either.)
Jobs That I Could NEVER Do
After writing about careers that I think I’d enjoy, I had to list some that I think would never suit me.
1. Plumber – It’s not that I couldn’t do this job, it’s that I am already spending a lot of my time plunging after my four potty-trained Dear Children. Really, there is only so much plunging and unplugging one person can do every day. My mother bought us a new plunger and told the kids that every time one of them stops up a toilet and has to use the plunger, they’re supposed to write their name on the handle with a Sharpie marker. Sort of our little “Handle of Shame.”
2. Accountant – I love math. But, somehow, it took me three attempts to pass Accounting when I was in college. There are just too many things involved with accounting that are NOT LOGICAL. I just might cry when the ACC 101 flashbacks start.
3. Narcotics Officer – I had a very brief love affair with narcotics the night before BabyGirl was born. I finally understood what junkies like about the stuff. The hard, rough edges start to disappear, and then everything disappears. Along the same lines, I probably shouldn’t work at Baskin-Robbins or Godiva, either.
4. Flight Attendant – Only if I can be armed. There are too many demanding people flying these days. They’d all be trying to say I’m not giving them extra peanuts because they’re too pretty, or dressed trashy, or from another country. No, it’s because I’m going to spend part of the flight fortifying myself with peanuts and liquor to put up with you self-absorbed whiners.
5. Pet Groomer – Three words: expressing anal glands.
6. Teacher – There ain’t enough wine in the world . . .
7. Speech Therapist – Probably it’s best if a Speech Therapist grew up with English as their first language. I did not. I grew up speaking a patois of Southern and Redneck.
8. Minister – Don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus. I am just not sure I’d be able to write a paper every week and then give a presentation on it every Sunday morning. I have a tendency to only do the effort required for a B-, and I think pastors should be putting out consistent A’s when they’re working for (and being graded by) the Big Guy.
9. Car Detailer – Have you ever SEEN my car?! I really need to figure out where that odor is coming from. It’s a lovely bouquet of dried pee on the baby seat, old french fries on the rug, and pre-teen feet–everywhere. And I’m convinced the local bird population is using the outside as a target of some sort. Lovely bird poops with all those seeds and such.
10. Police Officer – I don’t know if you ever watch “Cops”, but people are rude to police. I mean, I’d be armed and people would be mouthing off like idiots? Not a good combo. But it does offer some good laughs. Like that guy who’s skunk drunk and driving his riding lawn mower up to buy more beer. When the cop stops him, the guy yells at the cop, “My wife is gonna come up here and kick your ass!” I wanna meet his wife. Sounds like a lovely lady.
Jobs That I Could TOTALLY Do
Even though I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for the past twelve years, I have been under the assumption that I would eventually return to the working world at some point. The skills I learned working in the software world will be completely out of date, and I’m not feeling a desire to return to the hospitality industry. So I’m always checking out different career fields and trying to decide which path I might take at some distant point in the future. Here are some of the jobs that I am convinced I would totally rock at doing.
1. Events Planner – I have been doing quadruple birthday parties for over a decade now. I love themes. But let’s be honest–it’s really all about the food. And, as my bathroom scale will attest, I am ALL about the food. I promise you that all of your guests will leave fat and happy.
2. Mail Carrier – How much better does it get–getting paid to do a job AND getting a work-out at the same time! Talk about burning calories. I would be one hot, pith-helmeted babe.
3. Federal Air Marshal – I’m pretty skilled with a .22 and a 9mm (not to mention some training on the M16 and M203 grenade launcher.) Packing heat makes anyone feel like a bad ass, and I really like feeling bad ass. I like to get that “packing swagger” going. Plus, I love to travel. Send me to some cool tourist spots and I’ll make sure to take out anyone that is getting belligerent when they demand that fourth mini bottle of Bailey’s.
4. Private Investigator – My friend, the Queen, does this type of work for a living. As far as I can tell, it involves talking on the phone, playing with your dog in the car, and flirting with your coworkers by making thinly-veiled dirty comments on the radio. What’s not to love?
5. Coroner – I know, you’re gonna get all picky about how I have to go to med school to do this job. But I think after watching years of CSI, I am totally qualified to cut people up and find causes of death. Petechial Hemmoraging? Strangulation. See how good I am? I just need a lab coat and Gil Grissom watching over my shoulder.
6. Psychiatrist – Med school is required for this job, too, unless you can land some cushy job in a Banana Republic. But I have had enough experience with my own happy pills to be able to help people sort that type of problem out. And I can’t tell you how many times a day I think, “Damn, that person’s crazy!” So I’m obviously gifted at identifying people needing help. And I have an opinion about how to fix everybody’s problems. If only people would listen to me . . .
7. Tattoo Designer – I’ll admit up front here that I don’t have a tattoo. But I don’t think you need one to know what’s stupid to permanently mark upon your body. And I promise to research all foreign designs so your “body and soul” tattoo in Chinese doesn’t read “Communism and lead-laced toys”.
8. Librarian – Ah, to sit and read for hours at a time. At least, that’s the type of librarian I’d want to be. You should have learned how to use the online catalog by now, so don’t ask me to do it for you.
9. Pyrotechnician – EVERY boom would be a Grand Finale-like explosion.
10. Personal Shopper – Getting to shop with someone else’s money, and then not having to find a place for everything when I get home? Heaven!
Next post–Jobs That I Could NEVER Do
The Godfather Says to “Hamburger” Him
I’m thinking the BabyGirl has a future doing dirty work for some well-connected Sicilian family. We were eating dinner the other night–a casserole with ground beef. During the conversation, I glanced over at her tray and all the beef was gone. I figured she loved it so much she had picked it all out and eaten it. Then I saw her spy one last piece of meat and she carefully pinched it and then slowly brought it up to her ear under her hair. When her hand came down, the meat was gone.
Now, I’m willing to accept that my kids may be a little weird sometimes, but I don’t think any of them have an extra mouth near their ear. I got up and lifted her hair. All of the ground beef from her dinner had been neatly collected in the hollow of her ear. It looked like a hearing aid made of meat. The best part was that she was totally matter-of-fact about it. Like she’s been putting meat in her ear at every meal–no biggie.
I started wondering if this could be a way for Sicilians to send a message. Sort of like the horse head in the bed or the fish wrapped in newspaper. “You’ll bake with the casseroles for this, Vinnie.”
