Feeling Full
It’s been quite the food-centric couple of weeks for my family, as I’m sure it’s been for many of you. Between our Thanksgiving feast (and its leftovers) and our Hanukkah gathering (and its leftovers), lately I’ve been feeling rather full in the gastronomical sense. But I’ve also been feeling full of family traditions, which are usually easier on the digestive system.
Today’s smorgasbord:
THE CELEBRATORY
Thanksgiving has always been one of my mom’s favorite holidays. It’s her time to shine (and stress) in the kitchen. Despite some pressure (exerted by me) to scale back the feast this year, I didn’t notice much, if any, scaling back. Unsurprisingly, her stress wasn’t scaled back either, thanks to my dad’s efforts to feed his family (nearly) raw turkey. Now that I’ve had time to recover, I’m thankful that very little has changed in our traditions over the years. It just wouldn’t be right for my son not to experience the same food and same shenanigans that have been part of my life for as long as I can remember.
Hanukkah is generally a festive holiday: dreidels spinning, blue and white gift wrap littering the floor, hot oil splattering on innocent bystanders. It was still festive this year, but it was also emotional. This was the first time my son sang along to the Hanukkah blessings. Watching him flooded my mind with memories of childhood dreidel contests and heaps of applesauce atop crisp latkes. It’s hard to grapple with the fact that those memories were made over thirty years ago. But it’s easy to appreciate the passing down of traditions, even though (or especially because) religion now plays a much-reduced role in my life.
THE CELEBRATORY (PART 2)
My son has been anxious about completing writing assignments in class, because he’s not confident with his spelling abilities. With his kindergarten teacher’s encouragement, last week he overcame his fear of being incorrect and completed a four-page, self-illustrated book about Pokémon. When I picked him up that day, he couldn’t contain his excitement: “Daddy! You won’t believe it. I am officially. . .a WRITER!” He proceeded to gloat about how he wrote a book in kindergarten, while I didn’t write a book until first grade. Despite his braggadocio, I’m still one proud papa...
…and he’s one proud little man, because one of my short stories was accepted for publication! My piece called “Unfaded” will be published in the Winter 2021 issue of The First Line. The journal can be purchased through their website or at various indie bookstores, which are listed on their site as well.
THE AMUSING
When I told my son he lost his computer game privileges for the evening because he didn’t listen when I repeatedly asked him not to slam the door in my face, this was his tearful response: “Daddy, no! It was just a big misunderstanding! A misunderstanding!”
I do not think that word means what he thinks it means.