Tonight was the last night of Hanukkah. Here is evidence of my newfound dedication to the tradition:
Although it carped about being relegated to a makeshift mini-menorah and mumbled something about being banished to the “kiddie table”, I know it was secretly thrilled to be included at all, given that my interest and enthusiasm in the undertaking waned more than waxed during the eight days of the holiday. Indeed, on several occasions, I vowed (a/k/a cursed) that the new tradition would not be continued next year due to my inability to deal with wax and fire, and the candle really didn’t want to suffer the humiliation of finding itself poked into either a birthday cake or … elsewhere.
Thankfully there is no audio evidence to accompany the visuals. Not because my Hebrew prayers weren’t perfectly intelligible, but because my English curses were.