Yom Kippur, also known as the Day of Atonement, starts this evening at sunset. On this solemn holiday, Jews atone for their sins from the previous year and consider how to make the coming year better.
In the car earlier this week, Riley told us he threw challah into the lake at school to toss away his “sorries.” He said he told his teachers he was sorry for “hitting his brother in the butt.”
Riley does often hit Dylan in the butt, so it was a fitting apology.
Because I learn a lot about Judaism through my children, I can tell you that the tradition of “tashlich” involves symbolically casting off the sins of the previous year by tossing pieces of bread or another food into a body of flowing water.
It’s a beautiful ritual to be given the opportunity to dispose of your wrongdoings, wipe the slate clean, and begin anew without guilt or grudge. It’s kind of like eating the first meal after a colonoscopy.
Personally, I’d like to keep a small bucket of water next to my bed. I could toss some an entire loaf of bread into it every single night and sleep well. Perhaps it would be as effective as taking .5 mg of Clonazepam. (Perhaps.)
I’m sorry I spend too much money.
I’m sorry I don’t volunteer at school more.
I’m sorry I don’t drink enough water.
I’m sorry I didn’t go to the gym or for a run.
I’m sorry I complained about running errands all day when one of the errands was a pedicure. (Ugh. I’m really sorry about that one.)
I’m sorry I stopped paying attention to the news on Syria.
I’m sorry I didn’t take Harry on a walk.
I’m sorry I don’t care that one of our fish died.
I’m sorry I ate an entire bag of Skinny Pop.
I’m sorry I let a Bragging Mama make me feel bad.
I’m sorry I bribe my kids with toys.
I’m sorry I made macaroni & cheese for dinner. Again.
I’m sorry I made excuses to avoid playing Candy Land.
I’m sorry I yelled.
I’m sorry I said “no” a million times.
I’m sorry I didn’t floss my teeth.
“Dylan, what are sorry for this year?” I asked.
“I’m sorry Riley annoys me so much that I have to yell at him.”
At six years and nine months old, Dylan has mastered the art of the backhanded apology. This is either a proud parenting moment (he executed it brilliantly) or an epic parenting fail. Probably the latter.
My turn. “I’m sorry I lose my patience, especially with the two of you.”
“That’s okay, Mommy,” said Riley. My dear, sweet, squishy Riley.
Dylan added, “Yeah, you need to be more patient in the bathroom, Mommy.” Right. Geesh!
What would you toss in the water?