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"Point of order! Is it kosher if the level of the candles is mobile?"
"It's immobile! I immobilized it!"
"Is it kosher to de-action an action figure?"
Bruce just sat back and watched his kids fight. Only one of them was Jewish (if he's even allowed to count Stephanie – he hadn't checked in with her today) but they were all equally dedicated to the kosher rules of menorahs.
If for no other reason than to win over their siblings.
It had started with Dick, as everything always did.
When Dick was a kid and spending his first winter holidays at Wayne Manor, he was really distressed that the things he'd always experienced during the holidays weren't just happening. It hadn't occurred to his nine year old mind that his parents and the rest of his circus troupe were what made the bokoli and sarma and the singing and dancing competitions he expected needed other people to compete with. He didn't know enough about the traditions he'd experienced to recreate them and he felt extremely isolated for it.
So he'd asked Bruce to share some of his traditions, and, well, Bruce's winter tradition was Hannukah. Something he hadn't celebrated since his parents died.
But he would try. For Dick, he would try.
He had Alfred dig out their ancient family menorah and, because he thought it might make Dick smile, this one he'd kept himself as a kid.
Dick had been delighted, as expected. "It looks like a train!"
And Bruce had told him that, yes! A menorah was allowed to be any shape: the only thing that mattered is that the eight candles were all on the same level and the shamash – the helper candle – was kept apart.
And Dick heard that and thought "I'm going to get Bruce the most ridiculous kosher menorah I can find."
And he'd done so.
And continued to do so every year.
It became its own tradition. One that his siblings picked up when they too joined the family, until it, naturally, became a competition.
Leading to now.
"Electric menorahs aren't kosher!"
"Since when are we fucking orthodox?!"
"Is this the part where I remind everyone that a majority of you are actually Christian?" Bruce chimed in.
Gasps around the room.
"How dare you?" Tim cried in recovering atheist.
"It's our fault imperialism robbed our identity?" Dick added, arm around Duke who nodded sagely.
Jason spat. "Don't align me with Christians." He was Catholic.
Steph, Damian, and Cass just shook their heads at him. And, yes, as their resident Jew, Muslim, and Buddhist, they were allowed.
Bruce held his hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine, continue fighting. This, at least, is very Jewish."
They all nodded in satisfaction and turned back to each other to keep arguing.
The first wacky yet kosher menorah Dick had ever gotten him was a gold t-rex. It was still the menorah he kept lit in the family room to this day.
But his collection of funky menorahs had vastly grown and only gotten more ridiculous.
He had an octopus, a weiner dog, a pickle, and a menorah made up of figures of the members of TWICE that he's pretty sure Tim had custom made.
He couldn't keep all of them – the kids knew he couldn't keep all of them. He kept the first one a new kid gave him and whichever of the funkiest menorahs wins their insane contest every year. But the rest get donated to Jewish children centers which luckily all his children are fine with.
But that's still around a dozen menorahs he keeps around. He's running out of rooms to put them in. Poor Alfred has to deal with so many candles on his furniture.
He still keeps the Heirloom Wayne menorah in the entryway and that's what they do the first light with. It's the only way to keep it fair.
Just like having Alfred (church of England) pick the winning menorah was fair.
"Enough yelling," Alfred cut in with a stern but not loud voice. "Step away from the table and let me assess."
The kids grumbled but took their places on the various couches. Dick and Steph just went ahead and sprawled on top of Bruce and he couldn't tell if they were trying to butter him up or punish him.
Bruce watched as Alfred walked down the line. It started with Damian who seemed to have hand sculpted his menorah leaving the candles listing a bit portside. But Bruce knew Alfred wouldn't count it against him.
"A capybara, young master Damian?"
Damian nodded, smugly.
"Excellently done. I do believe we should keep this one even if it doesn't win."
That made Damian grimace, to him all but confirming that he'd lost. He crossed his arms and hunched further into his chair. Duke patted him on the head.
Duke was also next.
"A piano?"
Duke grinned. "You can actually play it!"
Alfred pressed on a key and it made a little tone. He chuckled with deep amusement. "Excessively charming."
Duke looked satisfied.
Next was Steph who brought one that looked like a roll of sushi, Tim who's menorah looked like Starship USS Enterprise (and was the electric one), and Cass who brought a Minecraft set presumably meant for children.
The standouts were clearly Dick, who brought a polished black stone cutout of the bat symbol (wings level to remain kosher) and Jason who seems to have locked a Superman action figure into a t-pose and hot glued candle holders down his arms and on the top of his head.
"Look at how janky those holders are!" Dick argued in a hushed whisper to Steph. He knew voicing his complaints to Alfred would deduct points. "No way that's kosher!"
"If Dami didn't get points off for how close those candle holes are, no way Jason gets faulted for wobbly lines," Steph whispered back.
Alfred makes it back to center and puts his hand up for silence.
"The winner of this year's absurd menorah competition is master Jason!"
"Yes!" Jason whooped, pimping his fist. "Supermenorah sweep! Someone facetime Clark – he needs to celebrate with me!"
The children all clapped dejectedly and Bruce was proud of them for being supportive, even if he did hear Tim whisper about how Alfred probably didn't want to subject Gotham's children to that monstrosity.
Bruce got up, gently dislodging Dick and Steph, and wrapped an arm around his second son. "Congrats, Jaylad. It's horrifying."
"Fuck yes it is," Jason grinned, the ghost of the troublemaking kid he was in his smile. "Wait til next year when I commission one that looks like my dead body."
"Jason, no."
"Jason yes!"
Ah, tradition.
