What Not to Wear: The Temple Edition

How do you dress to be a fashion don't at Mt. Zion? Here's a quick how to...

1) Stay up all night nursing your babe who refuses to take the bottle.

2) Wake up late for Rosh Hashanah services. Panic. Run around doing unnecessary tasks and drink copious amounts of coffee. Try to remember to bathe.

3) Holler to your husband to venture down the rickety basement stairs to get your outfit from the dryer. Start pawing through the piles and piles of clean clothes haplessly stacked on the dresser, various laundry baskets and on the rocking chair looking for the new shirt that you got to minimize that uncomfortable gentile feeling you get when you walk into Temple.

4) Have your husband return from the basement without the pants. Start to cry. Scare up another outfit that is clearly deficient. Wear clogs.

5) Leave for services at the exact time that services begin.

6) While stuck in rush hour traffic, listen to messages from the previous evening. Hear your helpful Jewish friend be very explicit about what you should wear. Look down. Notice you are dressed in brown slacks and a green short-sleeved sweater. Clogs.

7) As your husband attempts to console you, remember all of the times he as shown up inappropriately dressed. Yell. Scream. Throw fit.

8) Drop your husband and son off at Temple. Go to a used CD store.

Two Dimes

All day, I have been fixating on two dimes.
Twenty cents.
How can one number mean so little and so much?
Today is the twentieth anniversary of my mother's death.
Twenty cents,
twenty years.
One number, you would barely bother
to reach down to pick up.
The other, you can barely get up
out of your grief.