15/12/95

The Miracle of Hanukka

The moral of the story: the best holiday gifts are the ones that don’t cost an agora.

    On the first day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    Marbles. And I should have known better. Odelia's packet had four pink ones, two greens, two yellows, two blues. Donna got nothing pink so it was like she got no present -- well, until Odelia turned her back for a moment. Inexplicably, a magic fairy stole all her pink ones, Donna explained, her fists tightly clenched behind her back. Nomi was sulking in a corner, furtively glowering at her 10 marbles, none of which was a computer, which was what she really wanted. I pointed out that when I was her age, not even the chairman of IBM had a computer.
    Cost: NIS 9.
    Moral: If I were chairman of IBM, my children would each have a pink computer. And wish for marbles.

On the second day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    Adorable hair ribbons, absolutely, entirely pink. Alas, the wrong pink. It did no good to explain that when I was their age, there was only one shade of pink known to mankind.
    "Go back to the store," I was instructed by a guileless five year old, "and try again."
    "Fat chance," I assured them.
    They struck a threatening pose. "We won't wear 'em."
    My wife took their side.
    Cost: NIS 15.
    Moral: I never will understand women.

On the third day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    A goldfish. Which the cat ate. Which delighted the kids.
    Cost: NIS 19.95
    Moral: I never will understand kids.

On the fourth day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    A fake wristwatch.
    "But Daddy, it's fake."
    "You can't even tell time yet."
    "And we'll never learn with this thing."
    "Sure you will. Look, it says eight o'clock. Bedtime. Good night."
    Cost: NIS 36.
    Moral: These days you can get a real wristwatch free in a box of breakfast cereal, but what values would my kids learn from that?

On the fifth day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    A talking-to.
    "When a person gives you a present, you're supposed to say thank you and pretend you really like it. And anyway, there's more to Hanukka than just getting things. God knows, it's not like you don't have a room full of junk you never even play with. What about poor people, they manage to enjoy the holiday without spending a fortune. Besides, when I was a little boy --"
    "Daddy?"
    "Yes, honey?"
    "What are we getting today?"
    "A valuable lesson."
    "Daddy doesn't love us." 
    "But --"
    "We have the worst Daddy in the whole world. Wait till we tell Grandma."
    Fortunately the toy store was open late, and my wife ruled that, in such an emergency as this, bedtime could be delayed. I was nearly nailed for speeding but eluded the cops and made it there and back with moments to spare, though I did forget my credit card at the store, which meant I couldn't avoid someday going back.
    The ballet outfits were pronounced satisfactory, though I could have got bigger tutus.
    Cost: NIS 417.
    Moral: One is never too old or wise to learn a valuable lesson.

On the sixth day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    "We're lonely."
    "What are you talking about? You're triplets, you have each other."
    They sniffled at me. "All our friends have Barbies and Power Rangers. All we have is sisters."
    "I see," I said, seeing nothing. It seemed unseemly to explain that I strived to instil loftier proclivities in my progeny, that I would have been happy to buy them each a Beethoven bust instead.
    "We have to have them," they explained desperately.
    "Yuch," I responded eloquently.
    "Dear," my lifelong partner interjected, "It's Hanukka. They're children. You can put in some overtime. Be a sport. Just this once. And anyway, you have to go back and get your credit card."
    "Be a sport, Daddy."
    "Yeah, we're children."
    "He calls himself a Daddy."
    I hate when my kids remind me of me as a kid.
    The store had already handed over my credit card to some shifty-eyed youth who swore he was Sam Orbaum. They had little reason to doubt him because he promptly used the card to buy out the company.
    On the bright side, they agreed to accept a check from me. "For the sake of your children, because it's Hanukka."
    Now the dilemma: do I buy three Power Rangers, or three Barbies, or three Power Rangers and three Barbies, and which ones, or do I stand by my principles and teach them the value of non-conformity over peer pressure?
    I glared at the clerk. "Would you have such a thing as a Power Barbie?"
    Cost: NIS 529 (I put my foot down and got each one a bombshell bimbo but no mechano macho. Like, there has to be a limit.)
    Moral: It's embarrassing to be young enough to remember that when I was young I swore that when I was old enough I'd never forget what it was like to be young.

On the seventh day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    A Barbie dollhouse, Barbie wardrobe, Barbie vanity set, Barbie jewelry, Barbie makeup and perfume, Barbie Gets Married Ensemble and Barbie Punk Vamp Accoutrements, all of it in pure Barbie pink, plus Ken, "because my Barbie's lonely." And what kind of an education would I be giving my children if I gave them each a nude Ken?
    Cost: NIS 1,206.50, including a 10 percent discount on the Barbie chastity belts.
    Moral: I should have had three boys.

On the eighth day of Hanukka my Daddy gave to me...
    A shekel.
    "Okay, you three. You've got 150 stores in this mall to choose from, and eight hours to buy something. Go!"
    Nomi made a beeline for the computer store, and learned you can't buy much there for a shekel these days. She was shocked.
    Next door was the candy store.  Four thousand kinds of candy, and go make a choice. "My shekel is getting sweaty," Donna complained. "I know the feeling," I said.
    Odelia was on the verge of making a purchase when I pointed out that we hadn't even seen what there was on offer at the toy store.
    "Toys!" they screeched in unison. 
    What a selection -- not of toys, but of toy stores.
    Donna fell in love with a furry-ogre key chain (99 agorot). "Jeez, I bet there's something even better at the next store," I said. Naturally, she agreed.
    Seven toy stores later, Odelia narrowed down her choice to an estimated 65 items, Donna was holding out until we'd been to all the clothing stores and both supermarkets, and Nomi was trying to convince the other two they should pool their resources and buy a disk-drive flipper (NIS 2.89), "then maybe next Hanukka Daddy will buy us the rest of the computer." Her sisters backed out of the venture when I pointed out the flipper is not available in pink.
    "I'm thirsty."
    "Okay," I said, "you want to blow all your dough on a Coke?"
    She decided that, just this once, she wouldn't mind a little tap water, "Cuz it's free," she explained.
    With an hour to go, they were becoming frantic. "Hurry up, Daddy, we haven't even been upstairs yet."
    "But haven't you seen enough?"
    "NO!"
    Upstairs beckoned us and our little silver coins.
    "Oh, look, balloons!"
    "They'll pop."
    "Pocahontas bubble bath!"
    "Right down the drain, and then what?"
    "Ooh, frilly panties!"
    "On your budget?"
    Maybe I was being a little unfair, because when the time was up (as I proved that it was on their fake wristwatches) they were still not quite sure what to choose.
    "You know," I said in that fatherly way, "perhaps we should go home and think about it for a while. We'll come back when you've decided. Good idea?"
    They nodded.
    "When can we come back?"
    "Next Hanukka, and I'll tell you what. Just so you don't lose all that money, give it to me. You know, for safekeeping."
    "Like in a bank," Donna said brightly.
    "Exactly," I said shamelessly.
    I took back my three coins and slipped them into my wallet. Exhausted, we trudged back to the car and made our way home. I contemplated charging them for the gas.
    Their mommy greeted us at the door. "So, my little shoppers, what did you buy?"
    "Nothing."
    "Nothing?"
    "Nope."
    "And the money?"
    "Daddy took it back."
    The dirty look I got; like I'd stolen candy from a baby or something.
    Then came the words. "So what exactly did you do for eight hours?"
    I was about to answer when the girls jumped me. It took a moment to realize it was a hug.   
    "We had fun!" they answered in gleeful chorus. "It was the best Hanukka ever."
    Cost: NIS 0.00.
    Moral: Like when our Maccabean ancestors had one day's worth of oil and it lasted for eight days, miracles happen.