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MARY     3'0m1f Jesus' mother puts a guilt trip on him

(Jewish mother)

Hello, Peter, this is Mary. Can I talk to my son, please.

Hi, Jesus, it's Mama.

Well, I couldn't wait. It's been so long since you called me, I
almost forgot what you sound like.

Three days? Well, it seems longer, when you leave me all alone
and go gallavanting all over the countryside.

Don't apologize. I know how busy you are. When you're in the
business of saving souls, who needs a mother anymore?

Don't MAMA me, Jesus. You used to come by the house every day
for a nosh and a little schmoozing. Now you don't even call.

So, you went to the Sea of Galilee? They don't have a post office
in Galilee? You couldn't even send a postcard to the woman who
gave you virgin birth?

Okay, so you'd get home before your letter. It's the thought
that counts.

I know, I know. You must "be about your heavenly father's work".
So, don't worry about me. I'll be fine.

Five thousand? And you fed them all with five loaves and two
fishes? That's terrible!

Yes, I said it's TERRIBLE. It's disgraceful. That caterer will
never work in this town.

A miracle? Turning water into wine in Canaan, that was a miracle.
Trying to feed 5000 people with five loaves and two fishes is
just foolishness. No wonder you look so thin and pale. You don't
eat right.

Oh, sure, you SAY you all had plenty to eat. But you're wasting
away. You look like a stick. What woman is going to marry a
stick?

Yeah, you keep telling me that you're not getting married, but a
good woman would put some meat on those bones.

Then, maybe it's best you don't get married. A woman should
not be left at home alone, while you go galanvanting around the
countryside.

Far be it from me to keep you from preaching and healing. If you
want all those sick people breathing their germs in your face,
who am I to hold you back? I'm just a poor widow who depends on
her son for her livelihood, that's all. 

No, you go off and rub elbows with those crazy people.

Oh, excuse me, demon possessed people. You go do your aerobics
or whatever exercise you do with demons.

Exorcise, schmexorcise. What's the difference? Their craziness
drives me crazy. 

Yeah, well, listen, son, the reason I called: it's almost
passover. I was thinking of inviting Ethyl and Mannie over for
Sadir. You WILL be home for Sadir, won't you?

Jerusalem? What gave the fickockta idea to go to Jerusalem for
Passover? 

Destiny. Well, okay, but don't make any waves this time, son.
You've already got the Pharisee's peeved at you.

You're going to overturn the tables in the temple?! Oi Vay! Where
did I go wrong? I tried my best. I gave him the best years of my
life and what do I get? I get OVERTURN THE TABLES IN THE TEMPLE.
That's what I get. Do you know how many weddings and bar
mitzpha's we were not invited to because of your last trip to the
temple?

Alright, so they've made it a den of thieves. But, you can't
fight city hall.

Alright, go. Go with my blessing. God forbid, I should keep you
from your destiny. Just dress warm, son. It gets chilly in
Jerusalem at night. You should wear that new tunic I made for
you. It's the only decent thing you have to wear. My son the
Messiah should not go to the temple in a schmottah? Oh, and God
forbid that you should get injured and go to the hospital with
holes in your loin cloth.

Good, noone should say my son is mashugina. Have a nice trip.

I love you, too, Sonny. And don't worry about me. I'll be just
fine here... (coughs) all alone. Good bye.


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