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Gonna Bite Me a Little Pitom!

Didn’t that sound extremely dirty?

My lady-when-waiting scored us her new neighbour’s etrog. Can you imagine that conversation?

My mother: Hi, new neighbour. Thank you for the invitation to your succah.
New Neighbour: We’d love to have you over.
My mother: Actually, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could my daughter have your etrog when you’re finished with it?
New Neighbour: Um…sure. What does she do with the etrog? Make jam?
My mother: Oh, no, nothing like that. She’s going to bite off the stem for extra luck when trying to get knocked up this year!

New Neighbour nods and quietly closes the door.

The End.

I’m sure it was just a shade less awkward than my imagined conversation. She did share with her mother that she had twins accidentally. Which is just what an infertile person whose having her mother beg for an etrog likes to hear.

(c) 2006 Melissa S. Ford
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