Mr. and Mrs. Levine worked their fingers to the bones just so that their son, Samela could go to college. They were overjoyed, and they spared no expense to send him off in style. A few months later he returned home on break, and the Levines went to the airport to meet him.
When he got off the plane, Mrs. Levine threw her arms around him and cried, “Samela, it’s so good to have you home.”
Her son drew back and said, “Please, Mother, you must stop calling me Samela. I’m eighteen years old now, not a little boy.”
His mother apologized meekly and tried a new topic of conversation. “Were you a good boy? Did you eat only kosher like I told you?”
But again Sam was firm. “Mother, this is the twentieth century,” he said. “It is foolish to observe all those old dietary laws when everyone knows they were invented only because of dangers to your health. All of those dangers are gone now that we have refrigeration and chemical preservatives. I don’t keep kosher, and you shouldn’t bother to either.”
“Well,” said his mother, “did you at least go to synagogue?”
“To tell the truth, Mother, I didn’t. All the guys go to the college chapel on Sunday for a non-denominational service.”
At this point Mrs. Levine lost control. “Just tell me one thing, Sam,” she said bitterly.
“Are you still circumcised?”
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