The Folding Chair Intervention

Waiting For Passover

Some lovely people I know are doing a virtual Passover this year. I'm doing bupkis. The other day, I almost did something. But someone I married a while back staged an intervention in the garage. It went something like this:
"What are you doing, buddy?"
"What's it look like I'm doing, buddy?"
"Staring at the folding chairs."
"You got that right, mister."
"Why?"
"Because I can."
"Even though..."
"Even though."
"If it makes you feel better."
"It does."
"Will you be standing there when I get back from my Essential Job?"
"It's quite possible. I've got nothing but time."
"You want me to try and find matzoh?"
"No, that would be sad."
"But staring at the chairs isn't?"
"Staring at the chairs is cathartic."
"So I shouldn't be concerned?"
"If you come home and I've set the table, feel free to question my mental health."

Next year in Sherman Oaks (kina hora)