I was about to write a piece on the lack of humor in Israel since the war began, the sense of heaviness we all feel, when suddenly a friend offered me a Purim treat.  We call them Haman’s Ears in Hebrew, even though they come from a triangular German cookie that refers to the poppy seed pockets and have nothing to do with the holiday.  “Have one,” my friend said, “They’re Sinuar’s ears.” 

Yichi Sinuar does have these strange shaped ears, and the comparison to Haman seems quite just. And I laughed.

Actually I’ve been laughing a lot lately, but not much in public.  Here’s an example.  Yesterday my Arab neighbor wrote on the building’s whatsapp group that eggs had been thrown onto her balcony.  I met her on the stairs, and called out, “I heard you’re inviting everyone for omelettes” (She always laughs at my feeble attempts at humor, and I’m not sure it’s not just respect for her elders, especially those near dementia).  In any case we went upstairs together with another neighbor to check out the scene of the smelly crime.  We evaluated the situation like professionals, figured out the angles and vectors where the eggs had been thrown, what kind of strength it would need to get to the second floor.  I told our neighbor that he should have been there at the shooting of Kennedy to figure out all the angles.  He looked at me as if I were totally mad as my poor victim giggled.  Then we decided on two possible suspects – one a racist and one a schizophrenic.  Then we discussed involving the police, and promised to help if anything else happens.  Neighbors stick together.  We felt very self-righteous.

Today we discovered that lots of neighbors all over have been egged – that the caught 3 kids on film doing it – for fun.  

We didn’t offer to help clean up.