When growing up, I remember sitting around the dinner table with our Middle Eastern father’s family, who use their hands to eat food. They would reach out and tear the bread, then dip it in a sauce and eat it. This was done only with the right hand because the left hand was used for bathroom purposes. Our grandfather would raise his voice with a “hmmmmmm” if we accidentally used our left hand to grab the food.
I also remember sitting around the table with my parents and brothers, and whenever we ate chicken, our father would tell us that even the Queen of England would eat the chicken drumsticks with her hands. At which point we would all turn our heads to our English mother to see if our father was correct. Our mom just said that she doesn’t know how the Queen eats her chicken drumsticks.
I leaned towards the English side as I liked to use utensils to eat my food. Sometimes I would be ridiculed for eating pizza with a knife and fork. But I didn’t care because that is how I liked it.
Different people have different ways of doing things. The key is knowing who I am, accepting it, and also accepting people that do things differently.
And a few words about me being Graceful…
When I get into bed, I cover myself well and move around for a couple of minutes to find that perfect sleep position. Sometimes, I begin to feel pressure in my lower stomach, and I know that I need to fart. I turn my head to the right, and I see my partner lying peacefully next to me. The analysis begins: “Is it a small one?” “Can get away with it unnoticed?” “Will it be odorless or smelly?” “Will it make its way to my partner’s nose?” Then I think, what would the Queen of England do? At which point I sigh, get out of my perfect position, and go to the bathroom. Sometimes when I know that it’s a small one, I tighten my cover hermetically around me and set it free with the hopes that I wasn’t wrong.
Much love
Alon
