It’s almost over. Your blind, deaf and somehow screechingly loud great-grandma just finished the blessing for the particularly bitter herbs and you’re finally about to move onto the wet, unseasoned hard-boiled egg and rigid, yet mushy gefilte fish. Things are really looking up. But then, a cry erupts from the other end of the table. And it’s coming from your weird kid. “Elijah just sat on Miss Blueberry Princess Dragon Queen!” he screams.

Little Joshy cannot be consoled. The seat that is always left open for his imaginary friend was just usurped by a mere passer-by who’s obsessed with watching baby boys get their foreskin cut off. What a creep!

You try to help, but end up just making everything worse. “Calm down,” you say, “Miss Blueberry Princess Dragon Queen is a unicorn, she can handle Elijah.” But this just leads to more tears because you failed to remember that she is actually a mix of a unicorn, fairy, guitar, sea otter, skateboard, ladybug, goldfish and a whole bunch of unresolved trauma.

Frantically, you remind Little Joshy of the fun afikomen search that is coming up. You even promise to give him a hint on where the uniquely bland treat is hidden. But it’s to no avail. Even the driest of matzah can’t soak up these tears.