PURIM LOW It seems as if everyone loves those moments. Everyone but me. I think about the two empty bottles of wine in the recycling bin. The two my husband has said are “just strong enough to give him simchas Yom Tov.” And just enough to get me… disgusted? Embarrassed? Upset? Resentful?

"N o drinking in my house” my mother-in-law says eyeing the bottle of wine my brother-in-law removes from his bag.

“Ma it’s just one day ” he says.

My husband nudges him with an elbow. “Put it away. We can dance without getting drunk.”

How comforting; my new husband isn’t sold on the belief that Purim and drinking are synonymous.

By the morrow though I find I’ve been naive. Seems like my husband has exemplary kibbud av v’eim and will not drink in his mother’s house. That doesn’t mean he won’t drink at all.

It starts at noon when he returns home from delivering mishloach manos to his rosh yeshivah. Arms draped loosely around his chavrusa’s shoulders he waltzes into the house singing V’nahafoch hu in a tone of voice generally used by… well not those who are very sober.

I’ve never quite dealt with an inebriated individual before so I pretend not to notice.

“We haven’t been to your grandmother yet ” I remind him. “Let’s go now.” Because being in our small apartment when you’re this way is suffocating.

Every person we meet on the short walk is treated to a loud greeting and if they’re lucky a hearty backslap.

I can’t believe this is my low-key refined husband. This is so embarrassing! What is he doing? He’s not a yeshivah bochur anymore! I cross the street and pretend not to know him. He’s so busy greeting passersby he doesn’t even notice.

At Bubby’s house costumed kids stand around my husband hanging on to his every word and men in various states of inebriation goad each other into nonsensical song and nonsensical conversation. Bubby winks at me as if to share the delights of the metamorphosis. I see no delight and definitely no secret in this loud uncharacteristic behavior.

“May you be blessed with triplets this year ” my husband says as he grabs his childless cousin’s hand pumping it up and down.