My last post made me remember a joke I heard a while back.
Once upon a time there was a devout rabbi who was followed everywhere by his flock of trids. (Trids, you ask? Yes, they’re halfway between birds and kids that speed Yiddish.)
One day the rabbi and his trids came to a deep, deep canyon. The only way across was over a narrow, rickety bridge. The first trid bravely set off across the bridge to be sure if was safe for the much heavier trids and rabbi after him. Just when he was halfway across, the giant troll that lived under the bridge swung up and kicked him off into the void.
The next trid started across, got halfway, and was promptly kicked off the bridge as well. The other trids followed one by one, filled with a triddish rage that was terrible to behold. Finally, all of the cute like trids had been kicked off to their terrible demise.
The rabbi, grieving and pulling at his beard, began to make his way across the bridge, fully expecting to be kicked off to join his trids. But the evil bridge troll didn’t kick him at all. He simply swung out of the way, allowing the good man to pass.
“But why, oh bridge troll, did you kick off all of my trids one by one, but less me pass by to live forever without them?” the rabbi wailed.
The troll replied, “Silly rabbi, kicks are for trids.”
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