It's Yom Kippur today.
You know me, I'm a total atheist, so while I'm all for keeping holidays, for cultural reasons and (mainly) because some of them are fun, I'm also totally opposed to keeping any holiday or cultural tradition that makes my child cry.
Which this one, at least the way mr. delagar was insisting on keeping it, was doing.
It's a day of reflection, a day when we're supposed to look back on the past year and forward on new year, considering what we got wrong and how we might get things right, so okay, that sounds fine, except for how she's nine, and she can't really be expected to do that, and nothing else, all day long.
"I can't read books tomorrow?" she asked woefully. "I can't draw? I can't go to the library? I can't play with my pop beads?"
"Tomorrow is not a day for playing!" mr. delagar thundered.
She burst into tears.
At which point I had to bite my tongue hard to keep from intervening. Because, you know, if I had wanted a fundmentalist for a husband, I would have fucking married one.
Where did this guy come from?
4 hours ago