Much like the force, the hormones are strong with this one. It all depends on how you use it that will determine if it’s being used for good or evil. I try not to use the hormones for bad – guilting Ben into doing something he doesn’t want to do (like dancing with me in the living room, awkward high school style, because well, dancing isn’t what one does in the Footloose town he grew up in), or good – like when you get asked to be godparent to your best friend’s new addition.
That time, the my hormones completely overcame me and when Ben and I got asked to be godparents, I bawled. Like, alligator tears.
And I did it again last weekend when my goddaughter was officially named into her faith. Man, am I embarrassing. !
It wasn’t until I got to the ceremony that I was told I had to do a reading, and mercifully the rabbi let me read it before hand (and where I told myself, “I can get through this without crying!), and she ran me through the proper pronunciation of things, I was ready to do this thing!
Until it actually came time for me to read, and instantaneously – I cried.
Holy Hormone overload, Batman!
And, I still butchered the one phrase I was supposed to get right…
So fair warning, “Brucha ha’ba’ah” is not pronounced “bruhaha ha’ba’ah”. And in that teary, hormonal moment, the only thing I was focused on was not saying “Sharkbait Buhaha”. At in that moment, I was kind of winning.
I’m the worst godmother on the face of the planet.
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