At Least I Tried

N is outside playing with the 'big boys' next door, who are 9 and 11. He suddenly comes running in to the office.

"Mrs. V asked me if I want to come inside her house and have something to eat," he announces.

"Well, would you like to?" I say.

He hesitates. "No, not really."

"So what do you think you should tell her?"

"I think I should tell her 'I don't want to eat in your house,'" he announces.

My face shows doubt at that response.

"Maybe I should tell her 'I don't want to eat in your house RIGHT NOW?'" he asks.

I shake my head. "Try again."

"Oh, I know! I'll tell her 'No, thank you!'"

I smile. "Perfect."

Apparently they do learn. Even if it takes a few false starts before they get to the right answer.

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All I wanted to do today was go, by myself, to the Shabbat morning service at my temple. The rabbi, during our Reintroduction to Judaism class, has been urging us to attend Saturday morning services, since we're reading the relevant Torah portions in class along with other texts. Besides, I have some books I need to pick up at the temple office, and there's no religious school tomorrow, so I would be killing two birds with one stone.

Mostly, though, my motives were pure.

Of course, this means that everything both in heaven and on earth conspired to screw it up for me.

First, Baroy--who is a week away from another half-marathon and is determined to hit his under-2-hours goal this time--went out for a 14-mile training run. He left at 7:30, so I figured he'd be back in time for me to make the 10:00 service, even if I was a few minutes late. Unfortunately, I didn't bother telling him I would be waiting for him to return so I could hand off N (Em is still at a sleepover) and head out, since I knew his run would take less than two hours. This meant that he didn't think twice about going for a muffin and taking a few minutes to catch his breath before coming home...at 10:30. Unreasonably pissed, I almost literally pushed past him as he came in the door, telling him I'd be back by 1 or so.

I was less than half a block away before I realized that the thunking sound I heard was coming from my car.

Right rear tire. Totally flat.

And so, instead of synagogue, I spent the morning playing "let's line up my toy cars and make driving noises" with N, while Baroy took my real car to the tire place to get them to honor the "good for the life of the treads" policy we'd bought when we got those rear tires three years ago.

All I was trying to do was go to services! Be a good Jew! Worship God, for crying out loud!

If I didn't know better, I'd think this was a message warning me away. But I will persevere. Not this week, but someday.

I'm just that kind of stubborn.