gefilte fish | Good Times with Jess

Homestretch to summer! My children are already running around outside in their swimsuits. I don’t know why, but really whatever keeps them out of the house.

We’re recovering from our sugar high over the weekend, or not, given the amount of crying there was Monday.

I left a post-meltdown RB asleep in the living room and I went outside to get the deck furniture out.

I passed by the kids’ set-up from Sunday. They had raced in the house and demanded,

“We need birdseed!”

“I don’t have any, but I’ll put it on my list.”

There are any number of requested items on my list. The girls hang their heads.

“But what will we feed the birds with? We’re setting up a nest.”

And the next day there it is, an offering to the birds: gummies and nerds.

How do you know your kids have way too much candy? They’re willing to sprinkle it around the yard.

Passover and Easter were a success. BB read from the Haggadah for the first time, which was amazing. RB, not to be outdone, “read” from the Haggadah, but only while someone else was also reading. So that was special.

When RB got tired of “reading,” she moved on to caressing my face and pressing her cheek against mine. It was very sweet, until it got aggressive. Note to self: try sitting farther away from children next year.

The afikomen was found quickly and neither kid managed to bargain at all. RB accepted the $3 I proffered without a second thought. When I offered BB $6, she wavered, but RB held out BB’s hand for her. Deal.

BB regrets not asking for more money and is going to try harder next year. They’ll learn to bargain yet.

Elijah came and drank wine and maybe some year I’ll remember to get a special cup for Miriam.

The second night, we went to the community seder at our synagogue. In the morning RB asks,

“What’s today?”

“Tonight is the seder.”

“Again?”

Yes. I had my doubts about putting us through it again. But at the very least, dinner was provided and I was surrounded by fellow gefilte-fish lovers, Captain and my children aside.

Then the Easter Bunny came. BB and RB are some sort of egg-finding match made in heaven. The minute RB got to her basket, she sat down and started eating. BB has never really cared for eating and she dashed around finding eggs.

BB dropped the eggs in RB’s lap. Thrilled, RB continued to stuff her face. At one point RB stood up, found an egg, and returned to her roost to continue her candy buffet.

BB ate nothing and continued to find all the eggs. BB stared at chocolate coated RB and declared,

“I feel nauseous.”

Both kids were thrilled. This is what happened last year, but I thought it was because RB didn’t understand. RB understands. Why would she work for candy if it’s being dumped in her lap?

BB ponders the loot,

“I wonder why the Easter Bunny brought us so much candy. The other year she just brought us a lot of bathing suits.”

“Yeah.”

Consistency might have been a good tactic. Too late now.

Next up: school vacation. Captain is in the office all week, proof miracles do happen. Meanwhile we’ll be running from room to room screaming at the top of our lungs. Or outside in our swimsuits, putting Cadbury eggs in nests and waiting for more chocolate.

Doesn’t everyone’s seder plate have a Calico Critter sheep?

Safe at home week 5. Passover and Easter, check.

I had a precious grocery delivery scheduled for a few days before Passover. I was hoping to get things for the seder, including a 3 pound ish beef roast.

I unpacked the groceries. I didn’t disinfect them. We got a lot of what we needed and a few substitutions.

There were no chocolate chips, so they substituted coconut milk. There was no gefilte fish. Who bought all the gefilte fish? And then I pulled half a cow out of one bag.

It was a $60, nine-pound beef roast. Holy shmolies. Of all the years to have enough meat to feed all the Jews in my town.

Yes, there aren’t many Jews here. Which makes me wonder about the gefilte fish.

I called Peapod. It was the last thing I wanted to do. I’ll suck up the $4 for coconut milk that won’t turn into chocolate chip cookies, but $60?

Peapod tells me,

“We’re experiencing high call volumes.” CLICK

They didn’t even let me stay on hold. I finally get through. They give me a $35 refund for 6 pounds of beef I wasn’t expecting and I got to keep it! A Passover miracle.

The day of the seder arrives. The chunk of cow is on the table. BB has so many questions and that’s in addition to her required 4 questions.

I don’t know where the Jewish seder references fall with my readership, but had to go for that one.

We’ve been very open with BB about where meat comes from. She’s always enjoyed it and in the past has said things like,

“More piggy please!”

All of a sudden she’s very concerned about the cow.

“Is the cow not at the farm anymore? How did it die? Where did all the blood come from? Why do we eat it?”

“Some people don’t eat meat. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons including it’s not nice to the animals.”

“What about plants? Is it not nice to eat plants?”

“I don’t know about that, but we’ve gotta eat something.”

We ate this 9 pound roast for 4 nights and I’m still snacking on it a week later. BB’s questions were unrelenting. She seemed ready to swear off all meat. I mention,

“Just so you know, hot dogs, meatballs and dino chicken nuggets are all made from animals.”

These are three of her five favorite food groups.

As we filled the kiddush cup for Elijah, BB started sobbing. BB is terrified of all these characters: Santa, the Easter Bunny, Elijah, life-size Elsa.

Saturday night she sits down with Captain to make a list for the Easter Bunny. I mention,

“It’s a little late for this, the Easter Bunny finalized orders 2 weeks ago.”

Captain offers,

“Maybe you can guide us in the right direction? Jelly beans?”

“Chocolate.”

Not that jelly beans were sold out, it’s more why would the Easter Bunny bring something that I don’t want to eat?

BB leaves her lists in the living room and goes to bed. Using brown paint, Captain covers her lists with bunny footprints.

Easter morning she’s thrilled, but she has questions, so many questions.

“The bunny had muddy feet? Where did the bunny get muddy? Is it on the carpet?”

Seems like all of this can’t hold up to much more scrutiny.

After a breakfast of chocolate bunnies, chocolate eggs and more chocolate eggs, BB poops in the potty, which is usually rewarded with a treat. I offer one. BB replies,

“Too many treats. Maybe tomorrow.”