"Can You Pack the TV in Your Suitcase?"

Last night at 10 PM I got a text message: "You still up?"

My response: "Yes, what's up?"

Then my cell rings and what transpired was at first incredulity (on my part) and then (sigh) my proverbial internal "Oy".

I sometimes wonder if I'm allowed (strong word when perhaps I mean is it OK?) to use the word "Oy" since I'm not of Jewish heritage. The problem is, there's often no better word for certain situations than one from the Yiddish dictionary. Does it count that I grew up with a copy of the The Joys of Yiddish by Leo Rosten on the family bookcase? Does it count that I attended college at Cornell and had mostly Jewish friends from the city who intrigued and imprinted my young brain with tales punctuated by all manner of wonderful, new words?  I used to dip into Rosten's book as a high school kid and then was fortunate to live the words in context via roommates, classmates, and boyfriends for four years of college. Nevertheless, I often feel out of place using Yiddish expressions because I'm so clearly, what my friends, back in the day called me: shiksa. That word is not exactly a compliment but in context was proclaimed in gentle jest. Years later, I  limit my Yiddish vocabulary  to one word, culled from the dozens of wonderful words, that I particularly love. That would be "Oy" because....well, it's just so perfect a word.

I digress. Back to the 10 PM telephone call last night....

She, on the phone, asks me: "When you come visit this weekend (I'm flying), could you pack the TV (a 26 inch flat screen high definition, perfectly flawless piece of equipment) in your checked luggage?" 

Huh?  WTF?

Granted, she has agreed to purchase this TV which we are no longer using. Granted, she would like to have the TV sooner than later. Granted, she suffers from the "need it now" gene that afflicts me and other loved ones in this family.

My response? I really can't remember exactly what I told her but I do remember my brain generating a one word response......"Oy"  and a probing question that was left unasked...."How many drinks have you guys had tonight?"

I didn't need to utter these words because she knew.  I knew she knew by the giggles, the fits of laughter, and the background laughter of her boyfriend. I think they'd had a few and were in the mood to prank Mom.

Gotcha, hon. At least you don't mind me blogging about you. XOX