Passing Over a Brand New Holiday for Me

My biker look. This has nothing to do with the following post.

How was last night different from all the rest of the nights in my eight months? Apparently last night was my very first Passover.


I wouldn't know, however. I slept through the whole thing. An unprecedented four-and-a-half-hour nap! We arrived at our dear friends' apartment promptly at 6 p.m. I was already displaying signs of being beleaguered from my ongoing war with sleep. And so, in a momentary lapse of resilience, I gave in to sleep and took up space on a strange, but comfortable bed in an air-conditioned room.


The Ten Plagues came and went. The angel of death passed over. The Israelites fled. The Egyptians pursued and gave up. And I - the firstborn in my family - remained safe. And I continued to sleep. Through the Hagadah. Through the meal. Through dessert.


My parents and friends ate some Passover lamb and Passover turkey, drank the traditional four glasses of wine and indulged in dessert while I moved nary a muscle.


I don't know if it was the astronomical heat (98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, 37 Celsius) that sent me into this drugged state or just the overwhelming joy of a holiday. My new friend, Gabriel, just 13 days old, also passed in and out of consciousness during his first passover, but he definitely was more involved than I. 


At 11 p.m. I awoke, refreshed and raring and ready to go... home?? Three women and my friend Elan were staring down at me, watching me stir. Mommy and abba were packing up to leave. Everyone was drowsy thanks to the turkey and the wine and the party was over. So without tasting any food or reviewing any of the plagues, I was whisked back home where I failed to string together another four hour sleep. Oops. 


And that was it, my first Passover.

The Passover table.

I missed a fun Seder with the Herzekows and Lembergs!

Elan greeting me as I awoke from my evening nap.

Me all ready for action ... as we headed home at 11 p.m.

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