Hide The Hebrew National
My 4th of July was so dull this year that it almost defies description, even in the blog format, where banality is rarely an impediment to a descriptive paragraph or two. Let's just say that at around 6:30 PM, Regina, my brother-in-law and I were at the kitchen table eating turkey burgers and Elijah and his cousin Alison were at Elijah's little kids' table. Elijah ate a hot dog and several pieces of asparagus, for which he has a surprising taste, and Ali had a cream-cheese sandwich and an apple.
We told them that if they finished their food, they could have a popsicle. We'd barely looked down at our plates when Elijah shouted that he was done. His plate was, certainly, clear. So we gave him one. Ali ate much more slowly, and by the time she put her last apple slice in her mouth, Elijah had already finished his popsicle.
At this point, he pulled a piece of his hot dog out of his underwear.
"I TRICKED YOU!" he said.
My brother-in-law stared at him as though Elijah had just pulled the hot-dog out of his own ear.
"Jesus Christ," I said.
"Daddy!" Elijah said. "That's a bad word."
"Elijah," Regina asked, trying very hard not to laugh, "why did you hide the hot dog in your underwear?"
"So I could get a popsicle."
"Yeah," I said, "but it's a pretty small piece of hot dog. Why not just eat it?"
"Because I wanted the popsicle."
"Pretty good trick, huh?" Elijah said.
"Pure genius," I said.
A couple of minutes passed, and then Elijah was marching around the living room in his underwear, saying, "Mommy, have you seen your cell phone?"
Elijah's Razr-shaped crotch revealed the crime.
"Take that out of your pants," Regina said. "The radiation will shrivel your testicles."
"Oh," Elijah said.
"Your mother is being paranoid," I said. "But Elijah?"
"Don't put anyone's cell phone in your pants again."
"Because it's rude?"
For so many reasons, I thought, but I said, "yes, because it's rude."