Rites of Passage

If we were doing as well as we have done in months gone by of blogging, you would already know that Erez, aka Clafoutis, was Bar Mitzvahed in March. Fortunately, his dad is a writer, so he can catch you up here. Our piece of the story pertains to Bar Mitzvah gifts. We are really bad at giving gifts. I have been attempting to give Debbi a wedding gift since August of 2004; I recently purchased one and had it sent to myself instead of her. Michael cannot remember having given anyone a gift, ever. But Erez is not just anyone, so I was determined that we would come up with a thoughtful gift in a reasonable time frame. This poses the question of what constitutes as thoughtful gift for a thirteen year old on the occasion of his becoming a man. On that point, Michael and I differed.

Michael scoured the Internet and found the gift he would have most desired for his own Bar Mitzvah. In fact, I suspect he's a little disappointed he didn't get one for our wedding. He sent Erez a remote-controlled farting bear. I was pre-informed of his choice, because he inexplicably thought I would consent to having my name on it. I yielded from "over my dead body" to "ask Andy and Jesse." Michael sent an email asking if we would still be welcome in their home after wrecking their son. Jesse declined to vote, and Andy tactfully replied that he thought Erez would love it.

I felt I should send something more appropriate, so I put my mind to what I would most desire if I were a thirteen year old boy. The answer was a boyfriend. Given the reputation as a ladykiller that Erez has held since preschool, I adjusted. I sent him some personal products in the Unforgivable scent made by Sean John, along with a note explaining that this was meant to make up for Michael's gift in the event that the latter rendered Erez permanently incapable of talking to girls. We have received permission to reproduce the contents of Erez' thank you note to me, here:

Dear Anna,

Thank you so much for the deodorant and the hair gel. I used the deodorant this morning for a Bat Mitzvah. At the party, a girl asked me to 'grind' with her and I accepted because I love girls. Maybe the deodorant caused that. I will wait with the hair gel, though, because it may make me look too slick, and have too powerful an effect on the girls.

I'm very glad you were able to make it to my Bar Mitzvah. It was a pleasure seeing you. By the way, what did Michael send me????

With love,

Erez

I emailed the dads to explain that I had actually sent bath and shower gel, and that Slick should be prevented from putting it in his hair, but I was too late. According to Jesse "he smelled like the inside of P. Diddy's limo." The bear arrived shortly after, and within 24 hours Erez had "farted it to death" (Andy wants credit for this phrase, Jesse: "The OED will be so pleased.").

Michael's comments were "I told you so" and "This whole thing makes me so happy, you have no idea." Our work here is done.