AJP #1- Someone Forgot the Hebrew Nationals
A Jewish Picnic (AJP)
AJP #1- Someone Forget the Hebrew Nationals
The Weinberg’s picnic had been scheduled for Sunday. Anne, the Weinberg daughter had to cancel her plans to spend daddy’s cash that he earned from managing two delis in town, Joshua Jr., the Weinberg son had to stop studying the Torah for his upcoming bar mitzvah, Joanie, the Weinberg mother had to stop cooking her regularly-scheduled Manechevitz dinner and had to pack up the kosher picnic for later on, and Joshua Sr., the Weinberg father had to plan the complex arrangements and location for the delightful little gathering.
Everything was set, everything was ready-including the jar of kosher pickles and the pack of Hebrew National hot dogs…or so she thought. They all piled into Joshua Sr.’s brand-new Lexus and were on their way. Joanie navigated with the map that Joshua Sr. had put together early that morning. “Everything has to be ready, everything has to be kosher,” he boldly stated in his all-too common voice of superiority. “We are the master race, after all,” he rambled on throughout the day.
Anne had the picnic basket on her lap. “Aren’t wicker baskets filled with a variety of wholesome food a Christian cliché?” she asked her father, who was busy watching the road. “Yes, Anne, but that’s why we do it,” he replied, a pride-inspired grin growing slowly upon his face. “I’m confused, daddy,” she continued. “…We do it out of mockery, sweetie,” he ended.
Locations can be difficult to scout out for the average Christian, but Joshua Sr. had mastered the undiscovered talent and that became apparent when the family arrived at the site. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone, but himself. He laughed and chuckled at where he had brought his distraught family, but it was warm, waited on, and happy. Starbuck’s welcomed them and their Christian cliché and mockery tool with open arms. Joshua Sr. enjoyed a frothy cappuccino while Joanie enjoyed a similar one of her own, watching the kids swim in the wicker basket, directing their little hands at the pickles and the small bottles of prune juice mother packed.
“Someone forgot the Hewbrew Nationals,” stated Joshua Jr. Joanie, the Weinberg mother had the strict responsibility of packing the meticulous picnic. She was responsible for that missing pack of Hebrew National kosher hot dogs that were evidently the intended life of the party. They didn’t eat them with ketchup and mustard; they ate them with onion relish in rye buns. Joanie, the Weinberg mother felt her stomach tighten up as she witnessed the impression she had made on her family. “My perfect day has been damaged, but I won’t let it demolish it like I would be a Hebrew National hot dog, if you didn’t forget to bring them in the first place,” responded Joshua Sr.