In- Laws

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“And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee,… for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.”
- Ruth 1:16

Ruth, the most impressive daughter-in-law of all-time… simply makes the rest of us look bad.
Following the death of Ruth’s husband and her dead husband’s brother and father, Ruth is left alone… along with the wives of the other two dead dudes.
Once the three miserable widows arrive in the land of Moab,
Naomi, Ruth’s widowed mother-in-law, tells Ruth and the other widowed broad (Orpah… so I guess her dead husband was Stedman”) they should go find other husbands and make some babies.
Ruth sticks by Naomi and says those famous words mentioned above.



I spoke with my wife’s parents last night. They are warm, sweet, and thoughtful.

I met my wife’s parents six years ago, on the island of Manhattan (so there was no escapre).
I was 21 years old— I had no direction in life, no future, no anything (so much has changed).

I had to win over my (then) girlfriend’s folks with something! What to do?

I simply reverted to the same trick I use in most social situations, pleasant or uncomfortable…
I quote stuff!

“So, Aaron,” they asked, as they drove their youngest daughter and the guy she’d been smooching to a nearby kosher restaurant on the Upper West Side, “What are you interested in, career-wise?”

I paused, swallowed the lump in my throat… then blurted out, “Plastics?!”

There was a beat, I glanced at my girlfriend, who looked at me quizzically, then…
Raucous laughter from the front seat.
“Oh, delightful.”
Phew!
Sigh of relief.

Our relationship would grow from there… one quote at a time… then we advanced to jokes.

“What do you call a dog with silver testicles and no hind legs?”

“Sparky.”

Zing!
The in-laws loved it!
And it’s been a steady climb towards the summit of me-worshipping ever since.

There have been ups and downs, especially with my “sense of humor.”

They saw me sweat out the longest 22 minutes of my life—at a Long Island synagogue, doing stand-up for 120 old Jews (average age 72) one Sunday evening, who thoroughly drowned out my yammering while eating their dinner and discussing episodes of “Monk.” It was rough. One valiant congregant actually stood up in the middle, grabbed the mike and defended my honor (“This young man is trying to entertain us, show him some respect!”… it didn’t work).
But then there was last Shavuout, when I won over their congregation with a winning D’var Torah, an interpretation of the holiday and that week’s portion from the Bible (why do Jews traditionally eat cheesecake on Shavuot? To remember that freedom from slavery is sweet… and goes straight to my thighs… it’s funnier in a synagogue).

Now, the in-laws are two of my biggest fans, and we have a wonderful relationship.
They’ve even let me drive their cars!

And to think, it all started with plastics.

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