(December 1, 2010 at 3:45 pm)Thor Wrote: We go over my brother-in-law's every Christmas. I cringe when he ends the dinner blessing with, "Happy birthday, Jesus!".
I see your dinner blessing and raise you this:
My roommate, who is a lax Baptist, has a family that probably caused most of the stereotypes. Her grandmother decorates the house with birthday paraphanalia, has party horns, bakes a cake, and makes little cone party hats with glitter glued on them. For Jesus. True story - and she does it in complete seriousness. She will put a few candles on the cake and make everyone blow them out.
OGman, in strange coincidence:
I have no idea where my menorah is. I do not WANT to know where my menorah is. "Itty bitty shitty candles" are no fun. I don't care. I have to skype my mother tonight, nonetheless, because she's worrying herself sick that I will not be able to "celebrate Chanukah". Upon hearing my "predicament", a passing Jewish coworker took it upon himself to offer me his spare menorah. It's shape? Noah's Ark.