“Two days?” I say. “You lasted two days? Listen, if it was a good secret, I’d get it. But I told you I was kidding"
I have nothing to wear to a bris. Like, nothing.
I call Debbi. “What are your thoughts,” I say, absentmindedly braiding my hair, “about me wearing a garbage bag to my nephew’s bris?”
Debbi laughs. “Oh, I say go for it. Make a statement. Mrs. Katz will love you for it. What a way to lessen the tremendous pull of gashmiyus.”
We groan. The school has been on a rampage in the past few days to get us all to be less clothing obsessed.
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