I wasn’t planning to attend the Purim festival at our local synagogue. Besides not being religious, I’ve been spending my weekends working on the balcony of doom.
But forces of nature were conspiring against my staying home and admiring how smoothly paint goes onto rotting wood. Consider: My wife had made a costume for Seth and how could I miss the contest? It had rained the day before and paint doesn’t adhere well to wet, rotted surfaces. Besides, I needed a break from everything. And where else could part with $20-$30 bucks quickly?
So, I went with Anne and the kids. As someone who grew up in the Chicago area, I remember all my past Purim festivals in a square, undecorated meeting room. This one was outside!
From there, it got even better:
● Usually when we go to an event, there is nothing for me to eat because I’m allergic to all milk products, and I eat very little red meat. But they had veggie burgers!
● There were plenty enough age-appropriate games Seth could play. He did particularly well on the toss-the-bean-bag-onto-a-board game. Both times he matched the colored squares and won some gift tickets. He also won a snake and cat figurine on another game. I was so impressed.
● In Purim Festivals past, they always had goldfish, which usually would die of shock after your sibling shook the bag mercilessly, and mom plopped them on the seats of your 20 degrees-below-zero car. Then we would put the fish in a too-small bowl filled with too-hot or too-cold tap water, which turns out to be poisonous unless you remove the chlorine with treatment drops. Can you say “flush the toilet?” But at this Purim festival, they did it right: Seth won a coupon to pick up a goldfish from a local store. We’ll get it, eventually.
● Lael seemed to be happy despite the noise and outdoor weather. She didn’t need to feed even once. (I realize she looks a bit uncertain in the picture.)
But the festival’s highlight – for us – was the costume contest. My wife and Seth made the only costume in his age group. He was too shy to parade around for the judges, so Anne had to take Seth’s hand and lead him around. Still, my boy – and spouse – won first place.
With 20 prize-room tickets in hand, we picked out the only real choice: a small tabletop air hockey game. We were short one or two tickets, but the guy manning the prize room said, no problem. (What a difference from my boyhood when anal-retentive party-handlers would count and recount every ticket to make sure you didn’t short them one.)
Seth didn’t know why I was so excited about the air hockey game until we set the board up at home. Seth picked up the rules in seconds. Since I don’t like to overemphasize competition, I take a laid-back approach to games like this, but the next thing I know, Seth is slamming the puck at me with predatory glee. And he starts scoring – a lot.
So the day ended with Lael happy – well she’s always happy – my wife proud because her costume won, my son excited about the festival and his new toys and me finally relaxed for 12 and a half minutes. The moral? Never underestimate the power of a hokey Purim festival to boost your spirits.
For the last several months, I’ve been a widower … a blog widower that is. That’s because my wife, Anne, has been working hard with a team of literary aficionados on The Cybils, a blog dedicated to honoring the best children’s and young adult books of the year.
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