An endless loop

One of the true-to-life comic strips included in Shifra Gluck’s charming Shikufitzky 3 opens with the mother glancing at an invitation.

Loosely translated (we only have the Hebrew edition), the thought bubble over her head reads:

“I’m surprised that Mrs. Levy invited me. After all, we hardly know each other. But of course I’ll go anyway, because I don’t want to insult her…”

And then in the final panel, the mother arrives at the simchah and wishes mazal tov to the hostess, who’s thinking:

“I’m surprised that Mrs. Shikufitzky showed up. After all, we hardly know each other. I only sent her an invitation, because I didn’t want to insult her…”

I’m sure I’m not the only one who can relate to both characters.

It all starts out innocently enough.

Picture this:

You’re compiling the guest list for your upcoming simchah, and you wonder what to do about the X’s.

They’re very nice and all, but to be perfectly honest, you don’t have much to do with them. Yet, you feel you should invite them anyway.

Maybe they’re new to the neighborhood, and this is a great way to welcome them. Maybe you move in the same circles, and you’re inviting everyone else in the group.

Or maybe, they invited you to their recent simchah, and now you have to invite them back.

And there’s the rub.

Because once you invite them, they’re definitely going to feel obligated to return the favor.

And, then, before you know it, you’re both trapped in {shudder} the dreaded Cycle of Invitations…

{cue: wild, maniacal laughter}

How do you handle this delicate situation*? Do you have a way to extricate yourself from this never-ending cycle? Or does it just keep going and going and going…

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* Yes, I’m well aware that this falls squarely in the category of  high-class problems… :-)

Our Shiputzim: YOUR source for OUR literary compositions

To help the girls deal with their fears and concerns about the war, TSG’s teacher had the class write stories.

When TSG showed me her story – with its charming spelling mistakes – she asked if I could please post it on the blog.

[Brief digression: As you may have noticed, all of our kids are intrigued by this blog – albeit in different ways. Some of them find it amusing; others wonder why I bother; and still others are always asking me to post things about them. TSG, clearly, falls into the latter category…]

Anyway, I told her that I would post the story, but it had to be translated into English. Here, then, is her translation, which she dictated to me:

The Kassams in Sderot: A Work of Fiction by TSG

One day, I went to visit my friend Temima. We went to the park. We went on the swings. We played, and we had fun.

All of the sudden, I heard “tzeva adom,” and I was very scared. Then I almost fell, and Temima told me, “Run to our miklat (bomb shelter)!”

“Why?”

“I will tell you on the way… There’s [sic] Kassams in Sderot, Ashdod, Nitzan, and a lot more places.”

When we got to the miklat, I looked out the window, and I saw a mouse. Temima said to me, “Close the window! The Kassam will come into our house!”

“Wait! First, I need to bring the mouse in.” So, I ran fast out of the house, and I brought him inside. Then we closed the window.

When they told them to go out of the miklat, we played next to the house, and I told Temima, “I hope there won’t be any more Kassams in Sderot and in all of Am Yisrael.”

And I went home.

The End

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P.S. Exercise for the reader: See how many Heblish-isms you can spot in the above story.

P.S.S. In case you were wondering (and I can only assume that you were), TSG informs me that she got the name “Temima” from Shifra Glick’s Shikufitzky books.