Just embrace the madness

There’s a time in every relationship when its strength gets tested. For God and Abraham, it was that whole sacrifice your son bit. For Esther and Ahasuerus, it
was the “please don’t kill me and everyone I know” thing. For Mr. and Mrs. Zebra, it was are you coming on this cruise with me or do you want to stand in the rain all day and argue about it? For many couples, the not-so-shining moment is the NCAA basketball tournament.

March Madness makes many a Jewish girl go mad. Nuts. Full-on meshugge. Her boyfriend-turned-backseat-play-by-play analyst is more committed to his bracket than to her. He can list the starting lineup of the Butler Bulldogs, but he can’t remember which of her friends is Lisa and which one’s Michelle. He memorized Mississippi Valley State’s freethrow stats, but he still calls using speed dial ‘cuz he never learned her number. He can hum every bar of the CBS Sports theme song, but he has no idea what song was playing when they first kissed.

March Madness is a man’s Pied Piper; he can’t help but follow it closely. Girls, if you get upset, stomp your foot and complain that he cares more about