Holidays on Holiday Chapter Three: Oy

I'm attempting a Jewish chapter and you'll see what Santa has to say about that. Besides that, I'm sorry I haven't updated much and I'll be trying to update much more. I'm in your debt, which really sucks, but I wil survive. Anyway, read this, comment, you know the deal by now. But be sure to read the diction ary before the chapter.

Warning! Before reading this chapter, you may need to brush up on your basic Jewish-slang words.

The Basic Jewish Dictionary of Jewish Slang

Bubbé (noun) – an old woman
That bubbé has more wrinkles than a gnarled tree.

Yenta (noun) – a gossiping woman; a kiss-up to the rabbi
“Was your Thanksgiving filling or fulfilling,” said the rabbi. Of course, that old yenta laughed like a wild pack mule.

Rabbi (noun) – a Jewish priest; leads services in the temple
The rabbi never liked the kiss-up yenta.

Tuchis (noun) – somebody’s bottom
Having to go to a Chanukah service on a Friday night was a pain in the tuchis.

Oy (interjection) – the Jewish interpretation of oh
Oy, do I need a shower! These pits are driving me crazy.

Goyim (noun) – a person who does not practice the Jewish religion
Those goyim, they go anywhere but a synagogue.

Gelt (noun) – coins; currency
This is gelt I earned at the bank by robbing it.

Yarmulke (noun) – the strange hat that Jews wear during services
That darn yarmulke keeps falling off my head. Lucky for the bubbé she doesn’t have to wear one.

Meshugga (verb) – to act in a crazy manor
The rabbi went meshugga last year over his bagel with the heaviest shmear you’ll ever see.

Plotz (verb) – to fall; collapse
After five hours of non-stop video-gaming, I could just plotz.

Ferklempt (verb) – to be amazed; speechless
I was ferklempt that anyone would throw the old yenta a surprise party.

Chutzpah (adjective) – nerve
He had a lot of chutzpah to call me meshugga.

Shalom (interjection) – greetings
Oy, shalom, how are you…’re cows? Ha ha!

Driedel (noun) – the four-sided adaptation of a top
I spun the driedel with all of my might and quickly released it; however, it went haywire and hit someone in the head.

Shlep (verb) – to walk a distance in the act of carrying something
I had to shlep from kitchen to car to put the groceries inside.

Kosher (noun) – food that hasn’t been raised to be killed, has split hooves, etc. (It is against the Jewish faith to eat anything non-kosher.)
Kosher is like e=mc2: hard to explain.

Name’s Gimel. I’m even older than the oldest bubbé in Israel, for I’m about 125 years old and in great shape. What’s that new thing you people do to stay fit? Oh yes, yoga. I can’t do much in it, but I can spin my body around numerous times non-stop, which astounds everyone.

Yes, not only do I feel fabulous, but I look fabulous, too. Not a single gray hair on me and proud of it.

I still have enough energy to entertain the children, and they always have fun. Hey, who says someone over one hundred can’t be fun, eh?

I’m pretty social as well. I mean, even the goyim stop by to say shalom to me. Basically, everyone knows me because I’m outgoing. I see people all around. The only person I’ve ever tried not to befriend is that old yenta who tries to get in everyone’s business. Hey, at least she’s got chutzpah!

Now, you might just plotz here, but to tell the truth, I’m a driedel. I was ferklempt when I heard the news, too, don’t worry.

My manufacturers forgot to give me a name, which was a pain in the tuchis, and for years, I went meshugga over it. See, I have four symbols on me called: shin, hey, nun, and gimel, so I just picked one of those to name myself.

The best part about being a driedel is that I don’t have to shlep around anywhere. I see you humans just walking around from place to place, stressed, while I don’t get that. Wood does not produce stress, okay?

However, there has been quite a stir-up in Israel with dangerous bothers and such, and I’ve been getting the closest to stressed I’ve ever been in 125 years. It is in my best interest and hope of surviving that I go somewhere new, somewhere vast… You know scratch that, my cousin George has a condo in Florida.

I’ll go there.

Santa jumped in the picture. “WHAT IS THIS?!” he exclaimed.

“Well,” said the strange author hesitantly, “I thought maybe I’d put a Jewish chapter in the novel.”

Saint Nick crossed his arms. “A Jewish chapter? I thought we were on the right track. I thought you were going pretty well there until this.”

“Mister Claus, I just thought maybe I could put in some variety. I mean, this is called Holidays on Holiday.”

Frosty also skid onto the screen. “I don’t care about that, but why did you cut my story? It was just getting good and now people have to wait a couple more chapters to read the last of it.”

Rudolph shouted in the distance. “I need make-up. My red nose lacks its feverish glow.”

Moral of the Story: Sometimes, your characters come to life. Don’t let it happen to you.

Yes, this is the end of the chapter, but Gimel will be back later in the novel. It's just Santa didn't have his coffee before this being written, so he was a little cranky. He says sorry for the interruption of the chapter and that it won't happen again. However, Christmas will come with the help of a certain person in the next chapter as we continue on Santa and Rudolph's story.