The eighth and final night of Hanukkah...

Dan came into work tonight with a big bag for me. "Happy Hanukkah," he said, giving me the bag. "What is this?" I asked. I looked inside the bag and sitting there was a woven wicker basket with the words "Happy Hanukkah" on the side. I didn't know what to say. It was so...stupid. "I don't get it," I admitted to Dan, looking up from my new Hanukkah basket. "Look at the tag," he said. Sure enough there was a tag from the manufacturer on the side. It read "It's just not Hanukkah without the basket." I'm sorry; it's just not Hanukkah without the basket?! I don't even know what that means. I told Dan this. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me," he said. I apologized and told him that nowhere in the story of Hanukkah is there an all-important wicker basket.

For the rest of the night I just kept thinking of a Jewish family sitting around at Hanukkah, one of them having forgotten the basket. "What do you think this is supposed to be, Christmas? I mean, it's just not Hanukkah without the basket!"

Happy Hanukkah everyone.