Jews were not meant to go without food.
It is a simple fact that without caloric intake, and surely caffeine, things can go haywire.
Big time.
Antics. That is the only way to explain the absurdity of the end of my day. Amy antics. To the nth degree.
Keep in mind that the patriarchs in the family are hearing about this for the first time with this blog post, so to my dad and father-in-law, sorry the bagels were not warmed up and really, it was all my fault.
Here goes. And understand that there is no way you could make this stuff up.
I, in my control freak fashion infinite kindness, tried to help my mother-in-law out by picking up the food for break fast and keeping it in my garage fridge so it would not spoil. On cooler days she can keep it on her terrace, but in the name of not wanting rancid smoked fish and egg salad, we offered to keep it here and bring it over to her house at 5 when my husband and the dads went back to closing services for Yom Kippur.
For reasons of logistics I was taking my dad’s car. I loaded the trunk, closed it and realized I had just…
locked the keys in the trunk!
Yeh, well that did not suck much. I was going to run to my parents house (35 minutes away) to get another set of keys when my mother-in-law, in her infinite wisdom suggested AAA. The fact that she was not ready to kill me at this point is truly amazing.
I begged the guy on the phone to get here ASAP telling him how my dad was going to kill me. Then promptly told him how old I was when he replied, “hey, I am 62 and I am still afraid of my mother! She used to chase me with a wooden spoon.” Alrighty, then.
Sure enough they sent a locksmith within in the hour.
My man Andre! Oh, how I loved him. Especially when we found out that the trunk release button did not work unless the key was in the ignition. If you are still with me here, THE KEYS WERE IN THE DAMN TRUNK. He used the little entry to the trunk through the armrest in the back seat and somehow navigated around platters and bagels and kugels to find those keys. And during it all gave some sage-like advice about some higher reason why we should not be where we were supposed to be at that moment and that is why this happened.
Zen locksmith.
And then it started to rain.
Luckily we got there about 15 minutes before the starving temple guys and made a quick effort of getting it all together.
Sorry dad, but don’t worry, the car is fine. Thanks to my mother-in-law for being such a good sport and my mom for staying calm and sharing a good (nervous) laugh through it all.
Moral of the story:
Stay out of it and risk the rancid fish on the terrace.
Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.
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i could cry but i don't have time 
mercury almost out of retrograde 🙂
Pingback: My true love of AAA « i could cry but i don’t have time
Gotta love AAA! The wooden spoon? Yeah, been there too.
Try being an only Jewish (boy) child! I’ve lived with fear, angst, and guilt ever since the bris.
In any case, my Mom, and Dad, and Grandmother have all been out of my physical life for about 13 years now. They all left me about the same time, and of course, nothing has changed, I still act as if I had to explain myself to my parents, not to mention a raft of current and ex-in-laws as well.
Then again, I never locked my breakfast food in the trunk!!!!!!
Gail, mercury bet get out fast or I am screwed.
Liz, we need to talk about that spoon
Harry, you wear guilt so well!