My hunt for a nice Jewish boy (NJB) started in first grade with an obsession and love for Sunday school which began and ended that year.
You could say Nick Allen was my first manly crush. (He was more than four times my age...A child can dream.)It was through him that I learned my perfect type: smart and Jewish. He was my mother’s co-worker, and the most scrumptious Sunday school teacher I ever learned from.
His maturity in his late 20s only deepened my mature six-year-old feelings for him. Waking up on Sunday mornings and driving to my synagogue became my most favorite time of the week, and on the drive home afterward, I had to fight back my tears before even trying to enjoy an episode of Babysitters’ Club.
When Sukkot rolled around that year, he was invited to my romantic backyard sukkah for dinner with my family. This, to me, was the prime time to impress him, and make him fall in love with me. (Hey, it could happen. I am sure I have seen it on CNN.)
As my parents sat around after dinner to chat, I scurried to my room. Minutes later, I reappeared with a book underneath my shirt stuck out to reveal a shelf like look on my chest. While what I had done was obvious to our company that night, I like to think it looked like the most natural and painless reconstructive procedure to ever have happened.
I am not sure what was said to me that night about my behavior, but I am sure with my confidence and the help of One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, I was the cutest girl at the dinner party.