Saturday the family came over for our traditional New Year’s lunch.  It was pleasant and generally uneventful.  Which is why I thought aliens had taken over my family.  My sister did not go as far as to say that she agreed with my assessment, but she did note the absence of the usual guaranteed bloggable moments.  The rest of the day was a blur except that I chugged Pepto Bismol.

Sunday, POB (partner of blogger) roused everyone to go to synagogue on the second day of the holiday.  We went Friday night, we went Saturday morning (and dashed home to prepare for the luncheon).  And now we are going to shul for the third day running?  Did I go to sleep a Reform Jew and wake up Conservative?  Is this my beautiful house, Is this my beautiful wife?  How did I get here?  WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Theological arguments were a non-starter.  So, schlepped we did.  Our son was fraying through this.  After all, up to this point he was lovely and gentle and sweet-looking in his oh-so-cute bowtie.  And he is a boy.  And boys need to run around.  A LOT.  But, he was in services, I was chugging Pepto-Bismol, and he was acting out.   

We went to a luncheon at our dear friends’ house that afternoon.  Those present at the luncheon played connect the riffs of the rabbi’s talk on Saturday, to see who could string them all together into one message.  People did brilliant jobs and came up with different conclusions.  (After Friday night, I just played it safe at the children’s services.)

Bottom-line:  Two days of RH are too much for me.