Another fucking dreidel?
It’s another year of being the The Token Jew at Christmas parties.
You know what that means, right? My gift being the only one wrapped in blue and white paper, constantly asking if certain foods are kosher, boxes of microwavable latkes for breakfast. My favorite is constantly being asked to give the “bread breaking prayer,” a traditional Hebrew prayer given before eating. I don’t speak Hebrew, I don’t know the prayer, and have no interest in learning. I don’t bother to learn it because I am so completely nonobservant that I might as well be Catholic. The only reason I’m aware that it is Hanukkah is because people constantly ask me which night of Hanukkah we are on. It’s like I’m some sort of magic Jew calendar.
A week or so ago I was given an menorah. The first time it was nice to receive one, but now that I have six or seven of them it is getting a little rediculous. This last one didn’t even make it out of the box. I gave it to Chaste Hug Guy within an hour or so of receiving it.
So tonight after being asked for the umpteenth time to recite a prayer I don’t know and after perhaps one too many glasses of wine (“It’s kosher!”) I gave the following blessing over the food;
“Dear God. Be a mensch. Bless this food and grant me the ability to be constantly aware of all the high Jewish holidays, and lose my tolerance for uncircumcized men. “
Merry Christmas!
