Jelly Candies of DOOM

         I went to a bat-mitzvah at synagogue last week. For those of you who don't know, a girl becomes bat-mitzvah when she turns 12, then she is obligated - well, not many people actually do, but still - to follow the Torah. Then the girl's parents are absolved of responsibility for the girl's actions.


Then everyone eats food.


             While the girl was chanting Torah, I realised that my bat-mitzvah wasn't that long ago. I was an awkward 12 year old, and I still didn't know exactly what to do with my long limbs at that point in time.


               A wonderful custom that us Jews have is to throw candies at the bar-mitzvah boy or bat-mitzvah girl after they finish chanting, then all of the little children, and a few of the less inhibited kids above 4'5", rush forward to grab as much candy as they can possibly stuff into their little hands. Every single time I sigh and wish that I was still young enough to do that. When the candy is thrown, my synagogue's ritual director, who is a really nice person, seems to think that the 12 or 13 year old standing on the podium, just recovering from hyperventilation and the humiliation of his or her voice cracking in front of everyone, needs protection from those soft candies. Like paper airplanes, jelly candies are lethal when thrown at all, forget their soft, squishy, sugary feel. He shields the girl or boy from the flying candy projectiles with his prayer shawl.

                 You see? Conclusive proof that they are out to get us. When I was 12, I survived the attack of the jelly candies. I now realise that then was when I became a true woman.

Okay, that was stupid, but really easy and fun to draw.

<3 Gabi

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