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A Mountain of Rugelach

Rabbi Epstein ordered a box a rugelach from Isaac’s Bakery, which belonged to one of his congregants. That day he saw little Moishie, whose family ran Isaac’s.

“Am I going to see you later when I pick up my regulach, Moishie?” asked Rabbi Epstein.

“I’m so sorry Rabbi Epstein, I don’t think so,” said Moishie, looking very concerned. “There was an accident in the bakery and all of the baked good in the warehouse came crashing down. It’s like there’s a huge mountain of rugelach.”

“Oh don’t worry about it Moishie,” said Rabbi Epstein trying to make him feel better. “I’m sure someone will clean it up. You know, I’m going for lunch now, why don’t you join me. My treat.”

“Oh, I don’t think my father’s going to like that,” said Moishie.

“I know your father well Moishie. He won’t mind,” insisted Rabbi Epstein.

After a pizza lunch Rabbi Epstein said, “So Moishie aren’t you glad you came?”

“My father’s not going to like it,” replied Moishie.

“Why are you so convinced your father is going to object to me taking you to lunch?” asked Rabbi Epstein.

“Because he’s in the bakery – buried under that mountain of regulach!”

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