Being reminded isn't necessarily such a bad thing. We used to say that it wasn't really a seder until one of the kids broke a parfait glass. I tend to think that the problem was more that those glasses were never really meant for the freezer and that caused the breakage, but every year, like clockwork, one of us broke a glass. I'm sure that it wasn't fun for Aunt Frances, but she took it with ultimate grace, the way she lived her entire life. Memories of those seders are some of the fondest of my childhood and I'm happy for any reason to remember her and her events, even if it involves breaking things.
Oh, and she had hired help every year, too. The same lady each year, who knew what needed to happen when, which of the many refrigerators contained what, and allowed Aunt Frances to spend at least some of the night with her large, extended family.
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