ADL

Passover season has historically been the time of the Desecration of the Host (see this post before proceeding). At some point one has to declare, "The END is near!" Get off our butts and expunge this darkness. In response to these parasitic allegations, I propose to form the ADL (Anti-Defecation League). The office of the presidency must be filled by a charismatic and very enemated individual. His primary function would be to execute all offending beings in an almost anal manner.

The search itself would necessitate the traditional spoon and feather technique to unclench for search and rescue. Ten samplings are a must but somehow one insidious one always seems to go missing. The next morning would be the ideal time to destroy the critters by burning them at the stake while roasting a steak or shank bone concurrently. That night, at some hotel, preferably in California, the family would gather for the feast (Seder) but inevitably word would leak that they just couldn't kill the beast. Repeated hand washing, sometimes without a blessing, sometimes with. Questions would be asked, libations imbibed, choruses of 'DIE, DIE-Anus' and off-key chants would be sung recalling the ass-busting labor our forefathers endured before Me-ben-dazole (the proper pronunciation for the ineffable YKWH) released us from this torture and took it out of us in Egypt.

Most of us recount the 10 plagues, but some of us actually choose to be plagued in one form or another based on the dictum that we must view ourselves as if we actually experienced the redemption from Egypt. And I do mean experience.

Hark, me thinks I hear a knock at the back-door. Something makes me believe Elijah wouldn't be caught dead entering through there. So instead we toast his memory and pass out in a drunken stupor.

Sometimes one Seder would be insufficient to complete the task and a repeat rite must be performed. Eight days of doo-diligence and then once again we can make Passover the season of redemption rather than desecration.

The Eleventh/Second Plague

For all you skeptics out there, beware because God is listening and his vengeance is mighty. At first I couldn't pinpoint the source of my transgression, I scratched my ass wondering. Then it occurred to me that I had to go and rant about soap use on Passover. Well, for our blog-reading God, this was not taken as good clean fun. In fact, the punishment fit the crime. I ended doing Passover cleaning as SECOND time and I will be cleaning a few more times.

I wish the plague was blood, boils, beasts, power outage, or the like. Lice would have been unbearable but the cleanup from this was remarkably similar. The plague I speak of, the one that descended upon my house (me really), was frogs. But not your garden variety of Egyptian frog. It was more in line with the toad family. The NEMATODE one, to be specific. I was playing with our outdoor cat the first days of the holiday. It's a stray we took in after our white-trash neighbor kicked its teeth out. It is so friendly and it apparently didn't mind climbing and resting on my lap. Lo and behold, the wrath of God began in a place of darkness. 'Yea, though I squirm through the valley of darkness, I shall fear no evil.' The itch from these PINWORMS was quite titillating. Actually, this is not the kind of itch one should let his girlfriend scratch. It was driving me so crazy that I went to First Med and paid out of pocket just to be told that they can't look at the exceptional specimen I had so digitally gathered thanks to Scotch tape (wait, is scotch kosher for Passover?). It had to be sent to the lab. It upset me that they were prepared to let me go 3 days while the lab processed the results. So I just Rx-ed Mebendazole for myself and family ASAP rather than let a higher contagious and extremely annoying organism have free reign of the netherlands.

Clean-up was Passover-Obsessive Plus. Blankets went to the cleaners ($100+), sheets washed daily, some of my silkiest undies trashed. All my pants to the cleaners (now's a good time to visit me at work if you want a sight to see), clothes laundered daily, floors mopped, toilets spit-shined, carpets vacuumed (eggs survive well in the dust). No more scary movies with my bud because nail-biting is out since eggs do well under the fingernails. Everything is so clean you can practically eat off my as.....floor.

Now what to do with this fifth column, this seemingly pleasant sojourner cat? I believe he is a first born and as such, I wish the appropriate plague upon him. And I don't mean nematodes.