MAZEL TOV

I’ve never been a skinflint, a miser, but do admit I watch my wallet like a German Shepherd watching his master’s flock. The Bar Mitzvah of our son, David, has done wonders, put wax on my fingers to loosen me up a little. Also, my wife Millie, has used her wiles on me. I try not to mention it too often, but do think I have flipped and gone overboard. Yet, for our David, he is worth everything to us. He is going to have a Bar Mitzvah from Bar Mitzvah land, a beaut!

Without our nagging, pushing him, he has spent months studying the Torah, learning the difficult language and the meaning of each passage.Anything he wants that I can give him, I will gladly give...and he is not bashful. He asks. ‘Dad, Jerrold isn’t having a bash like you are giving me. He is having a family luncheon after Sabbath services are over and then, on Sunday, his father has rented the entire Capt. Rick’s Ice Rink from noon until 5. I’ve already accepted the invitation but don’t have skates. I have to have skates. Please, please, will you take me to Sports Authority this afternoon to get a pair? They’re on sale today.’ ‘David, why not wait a few days and see what presents come?’ ‘No, Dad, I need time to learn. I can’t go to the rink like a shlamozzle. Jerry said 100 kids are coming, including a lot of girls.’

‘OK, David. We’ll go later, after the Army/Navy game.’ ‘But, but, Dad,’ my son whines. ‘They’ll sell out. How many pairs can one store carry?’ I ignore his but, buts. The store still has his size after Army trounces Navy. My son, is a student exemplar, and in only 6 days of one hour lessons, can do an axle like a pro. He does it so well girls start calling him after school. They are twelve going on fifteen. Beverly and Melanie call often during our supper. Honest Abe David tells me to tell them he isn’t home. I hand him the phone and loudly say, ‘Here tell Beverly yourself that you aren’t home,’ and I hang up.

Before the phone starts to ring the following week, I take it off the hook. Millie and I watch as David opens all the envelopes, writes in a notebook I have given him, each person’s gift, their names and addresses and no matter what else he has to do before bed, we see to it that thank you notes are written and will go in the mail the next day. The same with gift boxes. David unties the ribbons, cuts the tape and makes careful notes so he can write something personal, not just ‘thank you for the present.’

It has all been a wonderful, happy, expensive experience. Pish Posh, the money was immaterial. David made us proud. And when he asked me to take him back to Sports Authority to return the 3 pairs of ice skates he got so the salesman can sell them to someone else, I couldn’t help but say aloud...

Some Boyshick we reared, didn’t we Millie?