In the Jewish religion it is tradition that boys are circumcised in a religious ceremony when they’re 8-days old. The ceremony is called a bris and is performed by a mohel. Don’t ask more. I’ve just exhausted my religious knowledge.
There are plenty of bris jokes. They’re coming.
Helaine and I went to Matt Scott’s house today for his son Brendan’s bris. We pulled up at the curb (the scene of Stef’s famous ‘ticket and tow’) behind the car owned by the person who would perform the bris. Well, it was his car or an amazing coincidence.
There’s the story of a mohel who saved all the foreskins from his brises. He took them to a leathermaker who fashioned them into a wallet.
“A wallet,” he asked? “A lifetime’s work and that’s all you could make?”
“Yes,” answered the leathermaker, “but if you rub it, it turns into a suitcase.”
To help with the ordeal, the baby is given a very small bit of wine. I guess that tradition works. Brendan didn’t cry as long or as loud as I would have. I mean, stop and think what this poor 8-day old just went through!
Helaine and I turned our backs while the deed was done. I think we both breathed a sigh of relief that our child is a daughter.
A mohel goes to his insurance agent looking for a better deal.
“I’ve never been sued,” he said.
So the agent went looking and came back with good news and bad news.
“First the good news. I can get you a better rate. Now the bad news. There’s a 3-inch deductible.”
Congratulations to Matt’s family. To Brendan, it wasn’t our idea–honest.