Those of you who follow the ongoing Lumish Fiasco of Life know about the Passover Curse.
Ever since Laurie and I started holding regular Passover Seders G-d has come down each year in his Mighty Wrath to kick my ass!
It's not my fault.
Every year that we hold a Passover Seder I get my ass kicked by G-d.
It has become a Lumish Family tradition.
Every year, around March, I start fretting about Passover and every Passover - either just the week prior or just days later - G-d hits me in the head.
The other year a skunk sprayed our dog, Georgy-Peorgy, the day before Passover and Laurie let the mutt into our house, thus stinking up the entire joint. It was awful! It is one thing to catch a drift of skunk as your driving down the road, but it is another thing entirely to actually have it in your house the day before Passover.
We managed to clean out our joint before our friends arrived.
And then, just a few years ago, I got bit by a dog and my hand blew up like a balloon. I conducted the entire Seder with my hand held above my heart, according to doctors' instructions, much to the amusement and satisfaction of our guests.
And this year I got into a fight with a cupboard door and the cupboard door won!
None of this is tragic in a Greek sense, but I still have to wonder.
Passover is my favorite holiday.
We usually pack them in and have a good time and I sit at the head of the table.
It is my one day a year to hold court, I suppose.
And every year I tell them that Passover is about freedom and, thus, about enjoying yourself.
And every year I get my ass kicked.