Carnival!

The fun continued yesterday at the Purim carnival at synagogue. Me being the idiot slacker Jewish mommy that I am, I totally spaced on the fact that there was, you know, an actual RELIGIOUS SERVICE before the carnival explaining what Purim actually MEANT. Because no, dear readers, I cannot for the life of me remember the train of the story of Esther and Haman and Ahasuerus beyond the fact that the king loved Esther who was Jewish, and she saved her People from the evil Haman, and so we all eat three-cornered prune pastries a month before Passover to celebrate the freedom of the Jews. I am sure that God is shaking his/her head at my incredibly lame knowledge of Jewish history. Serves me right if Rachel decides she wants to be a rabbi and then, halfway through rabbinical school, stops talking to her Mom because I'm not religious enough.

OK, let's carry on.

So the carnival was kind of fun, even if it felt like it was more of a Mommy event because I kept running into people from our Chavurah. We have been meeting for, what, over a year now and none of us can remember each others' names when we see each other at random events. I joked with one woman who called me Robin (Robin? I look like a Robin?) that we all need to wear name tags ALL THE TIME. (And no, I did not remember her name. Color me embarrassed).

Rachel played a game or two and was rewarded with cheap plastic stuff that I threw away when she was in bed last night (yes, I will de-clutter this house as if my life depends on it). She also got a pony painted on her face that looked incredibly cute until she smooshed it during a crying fit after her nap. It was a beautiful sunny day and after the carnival we played in the park for a while until I rushed her to the grocery store and ran into not one -- not two -- but THREE current/former Oregonian reporters. And a little girl from Rachel's dance class. Who knew what Fred Meyer was such a hip happenin' place to be on a sunny Sunday afternoon?? Don't these people have LIVES?

Then my friend Sarah brought her 5-year-old son Noah and Sarah's boyfriend Michael over for dinner. Totally unremarkable meal except that the deep chocolate pound cake I made was a disaster -- dry and almost flavorless. Ripped the recipe right out of my cookbook after everyone left.