Imagine:
Me, in a flowing black skirt, high black boots and a pointy black hat;
arms full of Yoda baby, backpacks, a sack of garbage;
and two fingers pinching the key to my car.
Aaron dressed in his Darth Vader best, chasing my witch broom out the door
I'm singing an improvised song about Purim (the Jewish celebration of Queen Ester) and so excited that the Jewish dress up holiday at Aaron's preschool has arrived. I can't wait to watch the teacher's play, and join his classroom in their Shabbat today.
Then, I put Yoda down so I can hoist the heavy garbage into the dumpster. Yoday bolts into the parking lot. I take off after him, tossing everything in my hand into the dump.
Including the key.
Then, before I know it, there I am--the strangest witch you have ever seen,
crouched atop the corner of the dumpster, ready to hop in to search for her missing car key.
Good thing the dump had just been emptied that day.
So, even though we missed the Purim play, we made it for Shabbat with the superheros, the villians, and all the other costumed crazies that day. Though, I doubt any one of them had a truer claim to crazy that day.
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