You see, Jo is a bit of a martyr. Not because she beats her chest and talks about her difficult days, but because she grew up in a small town in Kansas and married a man with a Kosher Dairy kitchen.
For those of you unfamiliar with the rules of Kashrut, that means there are no meat products or byproducts in the house. None. Except fish, cuz ya know, fish isn’t meat (doesn’t matter a bit though cuz no one wants to eat it unless they’re dying). Yes, dear goyim, I understand that fish has flesh and a nervous system, that it isn’t a plant, but fish isn’t meat. Please don’t interrupt the laws of Kashrut with logic, the rabbis have bickered about this for many millennium.
So our dear sweet Jo finds herself a blonde in a sea of Jewesses trying to wiggle her way around a kosher kitchen. There are no pies with lard, there is no bacon to go with homemade cinnamon rolls. There isn’t a steak or a brisket or a chicken to be found. She has children to raise and teeth to drill, she’s ready to rock and roll without meat.
There will never be pork or lobster again.
I guess I wasn’t entirely shocked when this showed up at the front doorstep yesterday.
Officially it’s labeled as a birthday gift for my dear husband. Methinks that Stepmother might be angling for a pork chop dinner sometime soon. Jo, I know it’s tough on you, but you really should eat lunches out. She might’ve had more fun with Dad in the 70’s when he was smoking pot more relaxed, or the 80’s when he was “not” doing coke with all the other lawyers busy tending to his children, or even during the 90’s when he’d disappear into Vegas for a weekend (starting on Tuesday).
So sorry Jo, you got the staid millenium, filled with delicious kosher food and a few marathons a year. If you’re nice, I’ll pay you in pork chops to baby sit the kids.