When we went to Virginia Beach in August we ate at a place called the Jewish Mother because Marcy heard the name and couldn’t resist. Last night we promised the kids if they’d clean up the house we’d take them to dinner. They did, so my husband loaded them in the car. Then he made the near fatal mistake of asking them where they wanted to go. They disagreed with each other over every suggestion. Finally Lizzy asked, “Is there a Jewish Mother around here?”
When I recounted the story to Marcy, she looked at me and said, “You’re looking at one. Next time bring her over.”
Posts
1 comment:
Actually, we had eaten at The Jewish Mother for breakfast the first morning of our visit to Virginia Beach the previous year and then went back for dessert that evening. So I already knew the food was good. Marcy (aka your very own Jewish Mother)
Post a Comment