I had a funny holiday flashback today, so I thought I’d share.
My father converted to Judaism right after he met my mom. He grew up in a Irish Catholic home. That being said, they weren’t really observant, save for Christmas.
Growing up, my mom’s mom (who I blog about a lot) got us for all of the “good” holidays. We were with her for all of the Jewish holidays, and Thanksgiving. So we usually visited my other Grandma the week before Christmas. (Because Christmas was for Chinese food and movies, and no one could take that away. :))
One year, we were visiting and my grandma took 4 or so cousins and my little sister to the mall. My mom pulled my grandma aside and asked that no matter what, my grandma not take my sister to see Santa. Being 3, my sister was too young to really understand, not to mention the fact that my mom was petrified of us sitting on strange men’s laps if she wasn’t there to supervise. (Seriously. Wonder where I get my anxieties?)
So the mall went okay. Or so we thought. Later that night, we were all watching tv when the news panned to a shot of my sister, screaming bloody murder from Santa’s lap. You could hear her screaming, “I don’t know you! I’m Jewish!” on the top of her lungs, and the reporters were trying not to break up into hysterics.
And that, my friends, was the last time my grandma was allowed to take us to the mall around the holidays. Come to think of it, I doubt she would of wanted to after the fight my sister put up!!