Playing favorites

Every night, The Boy picks out two or three or eight of his favorite books to read before bedtime. His favorites this week, now that it's spring, are "Driedel, Driedel, Driedel" and "Christmas in the Manger."

The driedel book is filled with curly-headed Jews making dreidels, gambling for gelt, lighting candles and feasting together on latkes. The words are those of the token Chanuka song we all learned as kids along with all those Christmas carols, and just in case you forgot the tune, there is a button on the front that, when pressed, will ring out a tinny, electronic version. The button on our book has been mashed so many times by tiny fingeres that it no longer sings on command. It will, however, toss out a few warped and mangled notes at random moments throughout the day, as if it were playing its own death knell.

The manger book is filled with all your favorites from the Christmas story - the star that shines in the East, the farm animals, the wise men, and of course the baby Jesus and his parents. Last night we were reading the book, and when we got to the page showing the happy family, The Boy pointed to Mary and to AnnaRay and said "TWO, TWO, TWO, mommies," because two is his favorite number and he likes to point it out wherever he sees it. He then pointed to me and to the bald and bearded Joseph and said "TWO imas, TWO imas, TWO imas." Ima - Hebrew for mother - is what The Boy calls me.

While I can't think of a single thing that my dear AnnaRay has in common with the Virgin Mother, I think The Boy's equating me with Papa Joseph is far from ridiculous. First of all, we're both Jews. Also, I'm no carpenter, but I do enjoy using my electric drill, and I did install a toilet all by myself on New Year's Eve. Most significantly, I too will need a little help getting my wife knocked up, and ours will also be an immaculate conception, (if by immaculate you mean sterile.)

I wonder if we would chose God as our anonymous sperm donor. From all the pictures I've seen, he appears to be caucasian. But His hair is white, and I think He's got blue eyes, so the coloring is all wrong. He probably kicked ass on the S.A.T.s and is no doubt artistic, having created the world and all. He's supposed to be all powerful, but there's not a lot written about God playing sports, so there's a big question mark in the athletic category. He doesn't wear glasses, and I doubt He has allergies, but it's a good bet that God is a lot taller than what we're looking for. Also, as far as personality goes, He seems to have a lot of anger.

All things considered, I think God would wind up in the maybe pile.