Purim Humor: A Treasury Of Classic Stories For Kinderlach

A Purim Guest Post By Rabbi Eli D. Clark

Purim 2013

A TREASURY OF CLASSIC STORIES FOR KINDERLACH

Der Drei Kleiner Chazzeirimlach

 

Once upon a time there were three little pink kosher animals with curly tails named Shmuli, Tuli and Smartest-in-Schooli. Their mother, whose name is inconsequential, sent them to learn Torah and get an online degree in neuropsychology.
Each one went out to build a beis medrashel. To leave more time for learning Torah, Shmuli built his beis medrash of straw. Tuli collected leftover schach after Sukkos and built his beis medrash from sticks. Smartest-in-Schooli received a loan from the Small Business Administration, collected Section 8 vouchers, obtained Pell Grants and guaranteed student loans, and built a beis medrash from bricks.
Along came the Big Bad Feminist and banged on Shmuli’s door. “Little prig, little prig, let me lead the hakofos!” Shmuli answered, “No, you can’t. It’s against the Torah’s hashkafos!” “Then I’ll hora with the Torah, and force my way in.” And she did.
The Big Bad Feminist banged on Tuli’s door. “Now I want to learn Gemara. Little prig, little prig, let me start reden in lernen!” Tuli answered, “No, no. It’s assur for women to have that yearning!” “Then I’ll learn at Stern, and I’ll argue my way in.” And she did.
The Big Bad Feminist banged on Smartest-in-Schooli’s door. “Now I want to be a rabbi. Little prig, little prig, let me learn Yoreh De’oh!” “Not on your life, you Apikoyres, you Cholerya! “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your walls down.”
But the brick walls were too strong. Shmuli, Tuli and Smartest-in-Schooli continued to learn Torah undisturbed. Furious, the Big Bad Feminist climbed onto the roof of the beis medrash and jumped down the chimney. She fell straight into a fiery pan of gribenes. This caused her cholesterol level to skyrocket, and she was never heard from again.

The Pea and the Not-Princess

 

Malka Feldensteinowitz was desperate to find her son Mendel a kalloh. Only she couldn’t be one of those spoiled JAPs, a princess. But how to make sure? Malka instructed her son to go to the hotel lobby before the date, locate the plushest, softest chair in the room, and place a small dried pea under the cushion. During the date, the girl would sit on the chair. If she felt the pea, the verdict was clear – no shidduch! The plan worked. Date after date, every girl sat in the chair and complained how uncomfortable she was. Then Mendel took out a girl named Shprintze Rochel. She sat on the chair with the pea. “Does it feel okay?” he asked. “Just fine,” she replied. An hour later, Mendel asked her, “Is the chair comfortable?” “Couldn’t be better,” answered Shprintze Rochel. After another hour, he inquired, “How’s the chair?” “Great,” she said. At the end of the date, Mendel was bursting with excitement. He rushed home to tell his mother that he had found his true bashert!
Sadly, Shprintze Rochel was not interested in Mendel. “He spent the whole evening talking about furniture, staring at my seat, and muttering about pea.”

The Matzo Brei Man

 

Once upon a time, on Paysach, a kindly balabusta made matzo brei for her husband, who learned part-time in Kollel and worked part-time as a coat rack. She fried the matzo brei in butter, then shaped it into the figure of a person, adding raisins for eyes, a fruit slice for a mouth, and strands of bean sprouts for tzitzis. Suddenly, the Matzo Brei Man jumped up and ran out the door, shouting, “Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the Matzo Brei Man!” “Never mind,” said her husband. “He is gebrokts, so we can’t eat him any way.” So they did not run after him.
He ran past a cow. “Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the Matzo Brei Man!” “Looks tasty,” thought the cow. “But matzo makes me constipated.” So the cow did not run after him.
He ran past a horse. “Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the Matzo Brei Man!” The horse licked his lips at the sight of the Matzo Brei Man. “I love fried foods, but the trans fats will give me a heart attack.” So the horse did not run after him.
He came to a river. “If I get wet, I will fall apart,” said the Matzo Brei Man. A fox appeared and said, “I will help you across the river. Ride on my back and you won’t get wet.” Halfway across the river, the Matzo Brei Man heard the fox making the berocho of “Borei Minei Mezonos”. “He probably brought along a snack to eat,” thought the Matzo Brei Man, who was fast, but wasn’t very quick. Before he could even say “Omen,” the Matzo Brei Man felt himself thrown in the air, and the fox gobbled him up. After savoring his yummy snack, the fox realized he had behaved badly. “I just remembered – I’m still fleishig!”

Goldenlutz and the Three Baers

 

One Shabbos a boy named Goldenlutz went to visit his friend, Laibie Baer. He knocked on the door. No one answered. Goldenlutz entered the kitchen and found three boxes of cereal on the table. He examined the first box. “This hechsher is too permissive.” He read the second box. “This hechsher is too chassidish.” He checked the third box. “This hechsher is just right.” And he finished the entire box. Goldenlutz walked into the Baers’ living room. He saw three shtenders with an open Gemara on each. Goldenlutz started learning from the first Gemara. “This sugya is too hard.” He tried the second Gemara. “This sugya is too easy.” He looked at the third Gemara. “This sugya is just right.” Goldenlutz started shuckling vigorously, until the shtender broke. “Now it’s muktzeh,” he said and went to take a nap.
He went upstairs and found three beds. The first bed was pointed East-West. “That’s against the Shulchon Oruch,” Goldenlutz said. The second bed was pointed South-North. “That’s against the Zohar,” he said. The third bed was pointed North-South. That’s the pesak of the Mishnoh Beruroh,” he said and went to sleep.
Papa Baer and his sons Chezkie and Laibie came home. “Someone’s been touching my cereal box,” said Papa Baer. “Someone’s been touching my cereal box,” said Chezkie Baer. “Someone’s been touching my cereal box,” said Laibie Baer, “and it’s all gone.” Papa Baer smiled. “Interesting choice,” he said.
The Baers went into the living room. “Someone’s been learning my Gemara,” said Papa Baer. “Someone’s been learning my Gemara,” said Chezkie Baer. “Someone’s been learning my Gemara,” said Laibie Baer, “and they broke my shtender and left the pieces all over.” Papa Baer smiled some more. “Yes they did,” he agreed.
The Baers went upstairs. “Someone’s been looking at my bed,” said Papa Baer. “Someone’s been looking at my bed,” said Chezkie Baer. “Someone’s been looking at my bed,” said Laibie Baer, “and he’s sleeping in it.” Papa Baer smiled even more. “Yes he is,” he agreed.
Goldenlutz woke up and saw the Baers. “I am really sorry,” he said. Papa Baer said, “Never mind, my boy. You ate Laibie’s cereal with the right hechsher. You left the muktzeh pieces of shtender on the floor. You chose the only bed that follows the Mishnoh Beruroh. You passed the test. Would you like to marry my daughter?”
“Help!” Goldenlutz screamed, and he ran out the door and never came back.

The Little Red Socialist

 

Once upon a time, there was a Little Red Socialist, who lived in Eretz Yisroel with a Mekubal, a Chossid, and a Misnaged. One day, the Little Red Socialist decided to build a kibbutz. “Who will help me?” asked the Little Red Socialist. “Not I,” said the Mekubal. “Not I,” said the Chossid. “Not I,” said the Misnaged. “We’re too busy learning Torah. “Then I will do it myself,” said the Little Red Socialist. And he did.
When the Arabs attacked, the Little Red Socialist asked, “Who will help me fight?” “Not I,” said the Mekubal. “Not I,” said the Chossid. “Not I,” said the Misnaged. “We’re too busy learning Torah. “Then I will do it myself,” said the Little Red Socialist. And he did.
When the fighting subsided, the Little Red Socialist asked, “Who will help me build the economy?” “Not I,” said the Mekubal. “Not I,” said the Chossid. “Not I,” said the Misnaged. “We’re too busy learning Torah. “Then I will do it myself,” said the Little Red Socialist. And he did.
After 60 years, the Little Red Socialist asked, “Who will help me enjoy the bounty?” “I will,” said the Mekubal. “I will,” said the Chossid. “I will,” said the Misnaged. And they did.

Copyright © 2013 by Eli D. Clark

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