I’m turning into my father. We used to make fun of him and his so-called “Classic Stories.” Then yesterday I’m on a call (zoom of course) and my colleague says, “Such a relief, today it’s only 95 degrees after all this time at plus-100.” And I go, “That reminds me of the classic story.” Silence. So I plunge onwards: “Yknow, about the guy in the tiny house?” Nope, blank looks from all the zoom squares. Well… it’s now too late to turn back, so here I go:
So, there’s this guy living in a tiny one-room hut with his wife and children. They’re all packed in on top of one another and it’s loud and crowded and unbearable.
He goes to the village rabbi and says, “Rabbi. It’s terrible. My wife and children and I, we’re all the time in each other’s way and stepping on toes and I can’t hear myself think. Rabbi, we need your wisdom, you have to help us.”
Rabbi thinks for a minute. “Do you have any chickens?” Guy’s puzzled. “Um. Sure, we’ve got a couple of them in the yard. Like everyone else in the village.” Rabbi nods in satisfaction. “OK. Here’s what you do. You bring the chickens into the house and let ’em run loose.” Guy is unconvinced. “Rabbi, this will help?” “You asked me to help, I’m helping. Go do it.”
Next day he’s back on the Rabbi’s doorstep. “Rabbi! The chickens, they’re not helping! Everything’s as bad as before, PLUS CHICKENS.”
Rabbi thinks for a minute. “Hm. Do you have a goat?”
[…OK you see where this joke is going, right? I’ll spare you the paragraphs of repetition. Bring the goat in the house. Next day, it’s not helping, do you have a sheep? Next day, a cow? Until finally:]
Guy can barely stand there on Rabbi’s doorstep. He’s hollow-eyed from exhaustion and there’s dung all over his clothes. “Rabbi. I don’t understand. I asked you for help, and you turned our family’s tiny little one room hut into a hair-filled, feather-choked, mooing poopstorm of a nightmare. WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU TO DESERVE THIS.”
Rabbi nods in satisfaction. “My friend, thank you for doing as I told you. Now take out the cow. Take out the sheep. Take out the goat. Take out the chickens. Come back tomorrow and tell me again about your problem and I’ll help you.”
Next day, crack of dawn, guy runs through the village to Rabbi’s doorstep. “Rabbi! Yesterday my family and I, we spent the day cleaning out the hair and the poop together and then we lay down to rest, each of us in our own peaceful, quiet little corner of the hut. We’ve never slept so well in all our lives. I will always remember your wisdom. Thank you, Rabbi, thank you.”
Funny. Never occurred to me until this very moment, and this isn’t actually the conclusion that I thought I was heading for, but: this is EXACTLY what happened with me and Nurn’s Classic Stories.
ME, 8 YEARS OLD: Nurn! Omg stop with the stupid stories! Stahhhhp!
NURN: *nods in satisfaction, keeps telling stories*
ME, 40 YEARS LATER: I will always remember your wisdom. Thank you, Nurn, thank you!
Turning into my father? I could do worse. 