This is depressing.
Just when I thought they had finally learned my name at Starbucks, I find myself waiting for minutes on end for my order, even though they had already called it.
Lucky for me there aren’t very many Albis in the world.
As I was walking to work this morning, I was looking at different Nativity scenes.
I don’t celebrate Christmas and I really don’t think the Bible Jesus has anything to do with Christmas, but for the people who do, I just wonder that their Nativity scenes are so out of proportion.
I mean, in some, baby Jesus is as big as some of the houses. It’s like- Jesus-zilla. I mean if I were Mary, (which I could never be Mary but if I were), I’d be terrified if I had a child that size! Assuming she would have survived the intense labor.
And Joseph would be like, “Who did you say the father was again?”
This reminds me of one of my favorite family childhood stories, which is the time my brother and my dad were playing football in the living room and they knocked the head off one of the three wise men. I think it was the Black one. By accident, of course- they’re not racist.
(Clarification: the Bible doesn’t say how many “wise men” there were and actually calls them “magi”- astrologers- a practice it condemns. Also by the time they arrived, the couple was no longer in the manger.)-Matthew 2:1-16; Isaiah 47:13,14.
We tried to crazy-glue the head back on but it looked kinda Frankenstein-esque and it kept falling off for the next couple of Christmases, until my mom changed religions and my dad, who had always been agnostic, didn’t really care.
Though the change must have been very hard on my brother, who was born on Christmas Eve and had to adapt to a world in which the end of the year does not revolve around him.
That goes against everything he ever taught me: that he is master of the universe and knows all.
It’s a good thing he’s given me his Starbucks card in an effort to make up for past psychological trauma 😊.