Wednesday, December 5, 2007

my son, the yid

A few weeks ago, Ezra and I were hanging out after school and I asked him what he had been given for snack that day.

"Crackers," he said. "And cheese."

"What kind of crackers?" (I am quite the conversationalist; you should see me at cocktail parties.)

"Jewish crackers."

"Huh. And why were they Jewish crackers?"

"They had a quarter on them."

****

For the first night of Hannukah this year, my mom sent Ezra and Levi watches. Today, Ezra brought his in to school for show-and-tell.

"And when I told them that it was for Hannukah," he said, "my teachers knew that I was the only rich kid in the class. So they asked me to explain to everyone what Hannukah is about."

Perhaps he has these notions because every day after school, we swindle some unsuspecting Christians and then go home to count and sort our pile of money at the kitchen table, which is fun except that our enormous hook noses keep banging into each other.

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