Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Why I'll Never Be Sainted

...Among other reasons.

Listening to Christmas music this season, I have a slightly different perspective than before. Little Drummer Boy, for example. I guess Mary was a lot more patient than I am.

If some kid showed up with a drum just after I had a baby, I'd be all, "You play with that outside! My new baby's trying to sleep! For Pete's sake, what are you thinking? And where is your mother, by the way?"

Also, that shepherd boy who suggests bringing silver and gold to the child who shivers in the cold. Not that silver and gold isn't useful, but come on. Use your head. You're a shepherd! The child's shivering in the cold! Bring a fleece. Bring some lanolin for the new nursing mother.

Well, to be fair, I guess at least they could use the silver and gold to buy some things like that, and maybe a fresh donkey*.

But I have a strong feeling those songs were written by people who never gave birth.

*Ugh--labor on a donkey. Triple ugh--postpartum on a donkey!


Granny said...

Jesus Christ! Who gives gold to a baby? He'll just put it in his mouth!

Andrew said...

Let's not even get into the version of "Little Drummer Boy" by Bing Crosby and David Bowie! Even Baby Jesus would start crying when he heard that!

Granny said...

Maybe the Drummer Boy deserves a break. After all, he did ask permission before he started playing. Crosby and Bowie, however . . .