Hanukkah can be fraught.
Ungrateful children dissatisfied with their presents. The puny Drummer Boy blaring at you in Rite-Aid. Grim office parties. Hearing yourself nag like a demented harpy approximately pre-dinner gelt-gorging. And when you fry up one batch of latkes, your hair smells like a McDonald’s for a week and every surface in your kitchen becomes as slick as Scott Disick’s hair and how the hell did that potato peel get on the ceiling?Continue reading "It's Hanukkah. Treat. Yo. Self." at...
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