The fancy china unwrapped and the silver polished.
On the table, someone's hand embroidered ("NO! Don't use that to blot up the wine!) tablecloth and napkins.
Well-worn Haggadah in hand, the patriarch stands and recites and sings and calls on others to participate.
Hard boiled eggs and salad greens staunch the appetites, then apples-and-nuts-and-Manischewitz-Concord Grape wine ("More, please!) tickle the palate.
Matzoh ball soup and gefilte fish and then all the main courses anyone could imagine and then more singing and more praying and gradually the kids disappear until Daddy is looking for the Afikomen.
What could go wrong? My all time favorite family photograph says it best:
I hope that your seders (should you be lucky enough to participate in one or two) are filled with joy and laughter and the kind of love that sends a favorite grandchild over the edge.
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