OY.

So begins what I call the Metamucil holiday. I call it that because no matter how much charoses I eat, my colon is blocked by a matzah wall that cannot be permeated by a mere prune. Oh no. I need the Value Size Metamucil.

Speaking of asses, I attended a family seder last night and I have to say, with the exception of one attendant's behavior I had a really fun time. Now this particular seder site is not described as *fun* as a rule. No. No it's not. Usually a few family members (you know who you are) make all the family events bearable because we are united in a sort of "can you believe we're part of this family" way. We have our own malicious fun totally on the down low from other peoples' watchful eyes. But this year my father-in-law had the lovely idea that we would all take turns leading the seder. It sounds so simple, but I think it really kept us engaged. My two kids even wowed me and Handsome Husband by reading Hebrew so well we were kvelling (I had no idea my 9 year old could even read Hebrew).

But back to the ass who will hence-forth be referred to for all eternity as:

The Rabbi.

The Rabbi is someone who loves to hear himself speak. While I would normally categorize him as a very nice man, he is also someone who likes to tell you the things he knows --NOT because he thinks it will help you in some way but because he wants you to know he knows them.

Throughout the seder he would stop and explain the significance of each part of the story to a room full of Jews. It was no one's first seder. We all know that the salt water is symbolic of the tears that were shed by the Jewish slaves in the land of Egypt. See that apple mixture? That symbolizes mortar in bricks of the Egyptian cities. NO SHIT. My poor nephew had the dubious honor of sitting next to The Rabbi. He was constantly being Taught throughout the seder. He is 15 years old and learned all this stuff from birth. While no one would ever call my nephew a shrinking violet, I think it showed amazing restraint that he didn't choke The Rabbi with a shank bone.

I finally told The Rabbi that we have all been to seders in the past BECAUSE WE ARE PRACTICING JEWS and that if he wanted to be a rabbi he should've done that. I think that stopped him long enough in his soliloquies to finally drink a little of his Manischevitz. But just a little.