This is probably because I wanted to sob over the fact that I would not let myself purchase Breaking Dawn, the last in Stephanie Meyer’s the teen vampire romance saga Twlight, and Undead and Unworthy, Book 7 of MaryJanice Davidson’s Queen Betsy romantic comedy. It was a tough choice. Dramatic human-vampire-werewolf love triangle or sidesplitting hysterical pratfalls and interjections from my favorite Vampire Queen. But I just couldn’t, wouldn’t, purchase both! Between memoirs and books on writing memoirs, my book allowance for August was at an end.
At the register, my mother-in-law decided to surprise me by paying for my copy of Breaking Dawn, which my husband had promised he would buy me BEFORE our flight to New York because I had played so nicely with others during family time with his family.
My response to my mother-in-law’s generosity was to screech. “OH MY G-D! I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN BOTH VAMPIRE BOOKS!”
She smirked at my greediness.
But the clerk behind the counter took pity on me. She gave me this button after I squealed when after I spotted it looped into the Barnes& Nobles nametag that hung from her neck.
“I think she probably thought I was a teenager,” I said looking down at my bedraggled outfit, which included the black hoodie with new button pinned to it prominently.
My husband nodded.
And yesterday, I thought about vampires again while reading this week’s parsha (weekly torah portion), Re’eh.
After reading repeatedly that blood isn’t kosher, I announced:
“It must be really hard being a Jewish vampire.”
He looked up from the pile of Hebrew books he was learning from with a look of utter confusion. All he could manage was, “Huh?”
“Well, I mean, you know, they need blood to survive. Blood is life. And they, like, can’t have any if they’re Jewish.”
I promise that I had other deeper comments and questions about the parsha. But it's no wonder that my husband doesn’t take me very seriously.