Another title for this blog entry could have been the religious trifecta. You are about to find out why.
As you know from reading the hundreds of Mrs. Yoy blog entries, we are a Jewish family. We are not religious zealots, but we observe our holidays and appreciate our rich culture and history.
Living in Atlanta is not like living in South Florida or New York. While there is a substantial Jewish population here, it is not as prominent as it is in other areas of the country. I know this. I've lived here going on twelve years. I've experienced a variety of awkward or funny things that people have said to me since I've become a Southerner.
But over the past few days there has been a spike in activity, due to the upcoming holidays this weekend.
Yesterday I came home and had a pamphlet about Jesus saving me stuck in my front door. It was from the Witnesses. They canvass our neighborhood A LOT. I quickly called my neighbor to see if she also received one.
The last time the Witnesses came by, they pointed to the mezzuzah hanging on my doorpost and wanted to have a conversation about being Jewish. They even offered to come back with some pamphlets. I politely declined. My neighbor confirmed she had also received the pamphlet. Whew, I was not being singled out.
Today I ran to Publix, and even though I swore I wouldn't let it happen again, this lady checked me out.
As she scanned my Gefilte fish (barf) and jelly fruit slices she inched toward the topic.
This is how it went down:
PUBLIX CHECKER: So you and your husband are....? (In a hushed tone)
MRS. YOY: We are Jewish. You can say it out loud. It's not a dirty word.
PUBLIX CHECKER: So on Easter you...
MRS. YOY: This year I'm going to see the Hunger Games (YAY!)
PUBLIX CHECKER: So you don't celebrate?
MRS. YOY: No, we celebrate a different holiday.
PUBLIX CHECKER: And it's called....?
MRS. YOY: Passover. It begins tomorrow at sundown.
PUBLIX CHECKER: So it's like Good Friday?
MRS. YOY: ____________________ Because I literally have no words.
I leave Publix feeling a little weird. It's not like I'm a unicorn. There are lots of Jews floating around Atlanta. How can I seem to be such a novelty to this woman?
On a side note, why does Publix have included in their Passover display Yarhzeit candles and not kosher for Passover noodles? Discuss.
Fast forward a few hours. We are home from the boys' school seder, which was a massive failure. We had to leave early, as usual.
Little E is napping. Big E and I are testing out new paint colors in his bedroom.
There is a knock on the door.
BARK! BARK! BARK!
Ninja quick, I grab Poodle Yoy and muzzled her yappy mouth and make my way downstairs.
My neighborhood strategy is this, while I hate answering my door because there is a chance the person on the other side is there to kill me, I answer it anyway. There is a GREATER chance the person there is checking to see if anyone is home before they kick down my door, so I'm here to let my presence known.
There is a teenage boy at my door. He nervously smiles and extends a flier advertising his church's Easter egg hunt this Sunday. I'm sorry it had to be him, but it was.
Instead of taking the flier and saying thanks, I explained we were Jewish and don't celebrate Easter.
It's not like I told him to piss off, but it shocked him still. His hand remained extended with the flier, but he was unable to speak.
I smiled and shut the door. He rejoined the group of teenagers knocking on doors.
After, I felt a little bad about it. I probably scarred him for life. He'll never be able to enjoy Easter again.
I think I had just hit my breaking point.
I believe everyone has the right to believe or not believe in whatever they want. And you shouldn't be bothered about it. And you should be respectful. That is it. Even if, Mr. Yoy calls me a Libertarian.
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent and I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday weekend, whatever you celebrate!
And if you don't have anything to celebrate this weekend, just have an awesome weekend!
I promise, I'll lighten things up in my next entry and blog about how insane the Yoys have been. Because they have.
Do not disturb Mrs. Yoy. I'll be gorging myself with Matzo over the next eight days.
Popular posts from this blog
I bet you didn't expect to hear from me... At 8:45AM this morning, I had a very worried child wake me up. He was ultra concerned that we were not yet up. How were we going to stick to the schedule I had printed out? The schedule I printed out in attempt to convince myself that this homeschooling/quarantine would not be the dumpster fire, that deep down, I knew it would be. I don't normally sleep this late, I promise. But Mr. Yoy and I were up extra late last night, finishing off the Hunters. I fell asleep around 2AM. I checked my phone and I had a very special message from a very special lady requesting I resuscitate the Mrs. Yoy blog, at least for the time that we are locked in, as she needed some laughs. So here I am. It's a little after 6:30PM. No one in my house has died and I feel like I need some praise and validation. The morning wasn't so zen. 9AM was P.E. time per Little E and his militant schedule, so we went out for a walk/bike ride. We came back
I opened my eyes and had a moment that I thought I had overslept. That one second of panic that pumps your adrenaline so hard, you could flip a car. The sunlight that was beginning to creep into our bedroom had fooled me. Moments later, Little E, the schedule sergeant, bounded in to inform me we had to get up and go on our morning walk. Today I was a little more enthusiastic as I craved the fresh air. I threw on my quarantine uniform, leggings and a sweatshirt and met Little E in the hall. He had put on his full camouflage outfit, vest and sweatpants, and I had put on my camouflage sweatshirt. We perfectly coordinated, but didn't match, like early 2000s Destiny's child, but without the singing talent. We are the Jewish Duck Dynasty After our walk, the teachers' emails came flooding in with their real assignments. Phew. Tangible work. I was getting worried that I'd have two homeschool dropouts. I set them up at the kitchen island to work and that las
Everybody's working for the weekend, right? Except in our new world, there are no weekends. Every day is the same. Friday. I find myself digging deep for my zen. We had such a good day yesterday and I really thought we were moving in the right direction. But just like the virus that has us all locked away, my kids' behaviors and emotions come in waves. Little E woke up on the wrong side of the quarantine and everything for him has been a struggle today. School work. Life. Meals. The Yoysers are only 20 months apart. This presents some challenges. But the absolute best part of them being one grade apart, is that Big E did all of Little E's work last year. So if Mrs. Yoy can't figure it out (look, it happens...), Big E usually knows how to help. I captured a sweet moment for the boys before things headed South. They wrapped up their assigned work a little before lunchtime. I had a couple of optional assignments for them. First off, we sorted our Tupp