I can fondly remember a memory that happened in middle school involving a friend named Bryce.
Bryce was turning 13, which marked the tradition of his Bar Mitzvah, and I remember he had a celebration at his house afterwards. I can fondly remember being extremely "middle school upset" about not being invited to that.
I was bummed out, and my seventh grade self was extremely sad about what kinda cool memories I was missing out on that I would later hear about on Monday.
Of course on Monday, just as I suspected, I heard all about how awesome of a time they all had, and Bryce said that he definitely mailed me an invitation.. But the memories still haunt me. Bryce bragged about how much money he was gifted by his family and friends, and we really kinda fell out after that.
We didn't talk since that week until our Junior year of high school, where he became a good workout buddy of mine. He definitely had become a nicer kid since then, and he would always crack jokes about his faith.
"If I hit 225x5 on this bench, they're gonna have to induct me into the Jew Hall of Fame."
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