I’d done it. Achieved supreme of Jewish womanhood, and I was only married four years
I found perfect costumes, leather jackets with a Harley Davidson T-shirt attached, a bandana. I bought stick-on mustaches, and borrowed a real motorcycle helmet for my husband. My shalach manos included the requisite picture of kids posed in costume, there was orange and chain ribbon. Basically, the whole shebang. This was the shalach manos you spoke about after Purim.
I’d done it. Achieved supreme of Jewish womanhood, and I was only married four years.
With that checked off my bucket list, I moved on to bigger prizes, like being known for a recipe (still haven’t really achieved that.)
The next Purim I didn’t pull out all the stops, I didn’t have to. I had already proven to myself and the world that I could do it, so therefore I didn’t.
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