Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is nearly upon us, so I procrastinate instead of making a kugel for the breaking-the-fast potluck tomorrow and/or filing a story before sundown that will bring in actual money. I apologize to my husband for not doing my share to pay the mortgage.

Here is my column from Tablet magazine last week, which happens to be about encouraging your child to apologize authentically. And here is an old piece (riffing on bad apologies of the not-so-distant past!) in which Susan and I pretend to be vapid sorority girls who really suck at apologizing.

Good times.