The Post Without a Title

I've been pondering topics for an uplifting and optimistic sort of post to launch the new year. But really, that is so not me.

Instead, I will share with you, Dear Reader, all of the things I missed out on as a kid because we are Jewish. Oh, okay, that's not exactly right. Let me clarify. These are the things that I thought we missed out on because we're Jewish. In the last few months, my brother and I have been discussing this topic a lot and I've asked my mom about several of them, which leads her to laugh her ass off at me every single time.

Highlights for Children: B. and I were both under the assumption that this was a Christian publication and that was the reason we didn't get the magazine at home. It's not, I learned after extensive Google-research. When I asked my mom about it, after she quit laughing (at me), she said, "I thought it was a terrible magazine!"

Chicken in a Biskit: And what the hell is a "biskit"? No one ever told me... I'm guessing because we're Jewish.

Easy-Bake Oven: My friend Patricia Dolan had one and it was kept in her bedroom where a picture of Jesus hung above her bed. She warned me never to look him directly in the eyes, but now I don't remember why.... We used to cook bologna (I'm guessing it wasn't Kosher) in her Oven. The memory of the smell still makes me a little queasy.

Trixie Belden mysteries: We got Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. I guess they were okay.

Chicken and dumplings: This one just came to me in the grocery store last week. I love chicken and dumplings but only ever had it as an adult. I don't know why that is. Maybe it's because of all the matzo balls? I do love me some matzo balls.

And the greatest insult of all? Saturday morning cartoons. Yeah, get this.

When we were kids, our synagogue didn't have its own building so we rented space from a church. Since they had to have services on Sunday, we had "Saturday school" instead of "Sunday school", which I didn't realize was unusual until I was an adult. I also didn't realize it was weird to have a cross in your shul. No wonder I'm such a confused Jew. But I digress.

So, we'd leave our home in our northwest suburb to travel clear out to southwest Denver every single Saturday morning, in our yellow station wagon. My friends were home in their pajamas, undoubtedly eating tasty delights made in their Easy Bake Ovens or Chicken in a Biskit, and watching Scooby Doo.

If we were lucky (the weeks we didn't go to Aunt Rose's house after to eat Lipton Noodle Soup and tuna salad), we would make it home in time for Fat Albert. Excuse me? Fat Albert sucked. I've spent years making up for my lost cartoon time.

Anyway, it's just funny how you get things stuck in your head as a kid and you don't think about them again for years and years and years until for some unknown reason they pop back in out of the blue. I'm sure there are plenty of other things we missed out on "because we're Jewish" but these are the ones I've been recalling and pondering lately.

I think I might make me some chicken and dumplings with a side of Chicken in a Biskit for dinner tonight.