Over the years, my mother has been host to many different kinds of Seders.

There was the feminist Seder (no mention of Moses, plenty of Miriam). The politically-correct Seder, with a gender-neutral deity throughout. The ecological Seder, where each of the ten plagues were paired with a modern-day malady (I may be wrong, but I believe genetically-engineered produce earned a mention).

Things usually kick off an hour before sundown. Dinner is usually served around nine or so.

So why was last night different than all other first-night-of-Passover nights?

Shortest. Seder. Ever.

With five children under five at the table -- and three under two years old -- she didn't have much of a choice. But man, that baby flew! Twenty minutes and we were out of mitzrayim and eating Nanna's gefilte fish.

Which was delicious, as always, as was the charoset made with banana.

Anyhow. I'm still in Connecticut, but if I was in Philadelphia, today would be a good day to, oh, I don't know, wander up Walnut Street and see what you can see.

Jen