A Jew and a Catholic Walk Into a Kmart

Now that December has rolled around and frantic Christmas preparations are underway, my friends and I are swapping notes on gifts and sharing recipes that are guaranteed to give our in-laws diarrhea. They don't call it the most wonderful time of the year for nothing.

It causes to me reflect upon our other great quasi-Christian holiday, Easter. This year, my husband watched my two and my girlfriend's two, and we headed out to the great land of Martha Stewart for the Financially Challenged, Kmart. I don't remember exactly why we chose to go. I suppose there must have been some specific toy I had on my list. Regardless, we hopped in her car giddy at the prospect of being kid free for two glorious hours.

We chatted about who knows what pointless drivel until walking across the parking lot I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked at her. She looked at me. It dawned on me to ask the question begging to be answered: How in the world am I going Easter basket shopping with a Jew? What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

To which we both broke into hysterical laughter as she answered: I know! I don't even know what the hell I am supposed to be buying! What even goes into an Easter basket?

In a week or two, I am going to this same friend's house for her yearly Hanukkah party. One of my favorite aspects of this phase of my life is the wonderfully diverse mix of people with whom we interact. I just know this holiday season is going to be awesome.