The first Jewsish President calls his mother in Queens and invites her for Chanukah.
"I'd like to," she says, "but it's so much trouble... First, I have to get a cab to the airport, and I hate waiting on Queens Boulevard..."
"Mom! I'm President of the United States! I'll send Air Force One!"
"Yes, but when we land I'll still have to carry my laggage through the airport...
And try to find a cab... And you know what holiday crowds are like..."
"Mom! I'll have a helicopter pick you up! You'll go straight from the plane to my front lawn!"
"I don't know... I'd still need a hotel room. And hotels are so expensive... and they're not like they used to be..."
"Ma! You'll stay at the White House!"
"Well..." She thinks. "I guess. O.K." she sighs, "I'll come... for you."
That afternoon, she's talking on the phone with one of her friends. "What's new?" the friend asks.
"I'm visiting my son for Chanukah."
"The doctor?"
"No... the other one."