A PEP TALK TO MY STOMACH
I understand that you like to be left alone, curling up somewhere below my pancreas sandwiched between various types of kishkes like a babe in a blanket. But I need to make clear that you are only one cog… One tiny piece of the apparatus that is my internal mechanics, a pawn to forces greater and more complicated than you can possibly understand. And you are not asked for much… I send you a balanced diet complete with roughage, vitamins, 8 glasses of water a day and I don’t dare fill you with milk products, processed food, or any of the garbage that people call food. But you must remember that you are in a team, an army if you will, and this team lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a one body… And tonight we are going into battle, a battle that we are only called into twice a year, once on Purim and again when one of our various friends gets engaged.
I need you to know that this war won’t be won by stomping off like some weak kneed coward in the face of the enemy; it’ll be won by doing your duty, taking what you are given, and asking for more. When asked you will fight! I know I can count on you, stomach, not because you’re some crazy futuristic pumping iron stomach but because you have guts… You are freaking guts! And tonight you will rise to the challenge of many Guinness’, perhaps a shot or two and when I’ve finished all that drinking I will inevitably crawl to the nearest outlet of greasy burgers and ram half a pound of meat down my esophagus… I don’t know why I always do that, but stomach tonight is your night to shine.
Now I know that you’re scared that you’ll chicken out, have that reaction we discovered the last time we had a glass of milk. You might have been listening to some of the slander that I myself have said about you in the past, denigrating your day-to-day toil because of your occasional recalcitrance. But don’t worry about it; that was another man, a man beaten down by his frequent trips to disgusting public bathrooms, scarred by cheesecake, cream cheese and lasagna… On this night, I have confidence in you. On this night, I know that you’ll do your duty. On this night I know you’ll ride, no wade, into battle like one of those guys in that 300 movie, all ripped with ab muscles and whatnot… And when the going gets tough you’ll go berserk, digesting like you’ve never digested before, breaking down food particles into smaller and smaller pieces and passing them on quietly and without a fuss to the intestines.
And when this night is over you’ll feel proud of yourself. You will thank Gd for the opportunity that you fear most at this moment. Half a year from now you’ll reminisce saying “I was there, I did my duty” and have the peace of knowing that you reached your full potential.
Alright now, you son of a gun, you know how I feel. Oh, and I will be proud to lead you into battle.
