From the desk of Stella Goldberg

Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.

Dear Stella,

In my zeal to eat my lemon bar, I may have accidentally eaten a small piece of plastic wrapping. I can feel something tickling the back of my throat. Will plastic wrap hurt me?

Sincerely,
Loves Lemon Bars

Dear Loves Lemon Bars,

Oh, who hasn’t been there? My Morty loves the cherry cheese blintzes I make every year for the Fitzberg’s holiday party. They’re always a hit, and I always have to make extra because he’s eating them before I can get them to the party. “Morty!” I says. “Morty! We’re going to look cheap, showing up empty handed at the Fitzberg’s! And you know I don’t want to look cheap after the comment Hattie made at Jared’s bar mitzvah about our table linens being part polyester!” Well, wouldn’t you know. One year, I made a big batch, left a few on the counter for my genius husband to nosh on, and put the rest in the freezer until the party. Two o’clock in the morning, Morty wakes up and decides he needs a snack. Eating! It’s all boys think about. He goes out to the freezer and what does he find? My cherry cheese blintzes. He goes to town and ends up sucking down a piece of waxed paper. He comes to the bedroom and shakes me awake. I’m thinking the world is ending the way he’s acting. Fortunately, my son Jared, who was in medical school at the time, was home for the weekend. We got him up. He shined a little flashlight in Morty’s throat and said there was nothing wrong. Morty is such a drama queen. But it does make me feel so secure to have a doctor in the house. My son, Jared – the doctor! He makes me so proud. Well, I had to get up at that point, anyway, because the party was that evening and I wasn’t going to show up with an Entimanns pound cake and give Hattie the chance to never let me hear the end of it. Cherry cheese blintzes – at 4:00 in the morning! Can you imagine? But they were the hit of the party – everybody commented on them. Nobody said a word about that sad little relish tray Eva Freeberg brought, but everybody raved about my cherry cheese blintzes. Hattie was seething with jealousy, I could just feel it from across the room. Serves her right…saying my table linens were part polyester.

Anyway, you’re probably fine. Just have a little nosh and drink some water and it will probably wash down. If it really starts to bother you, and your son isn’t a doctor, then maybe make an appointment at that little clinic in the mall or something. Or if any of your friends sons are doctors, see if they’re free. Maybe bring along your single daughter, if you have one. It never hurts for girls to be exposed to single Jewish doctors. Though I know for a fact no matter how many single, cute, emotionally available doctors you parade in front of your daughter, she’ll still end up bringing home some Mexican. But that’s another story and I don’t like to bring up personal stories in my columns.