Something about Mary

A micro story to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

Oh, boo hoo, Joseph, stop whining! Pray tell, who's the one having contraptions all day and night, trying to squeeze the King of Kings out of her never-travelled-before-in-either-ways road? And in a cold manger in the middle of nowhere, without a midwife in sight for miles? Yours truly, if you haven't noticed yet, all wrapped up in your self-pity.

Who's the one knocked up at the age of 15 by a much, much older man? I'd rather have had my cherry popped by that young and fit Gabriel, but he told me he was asexual - although I'm pretty sure he's gay – but it's OK, I’m not being judgmental, just a tad annoyed.

I still can't believe my parents thought it was all right and totally plausible, having a virgin yet pregnant daughter, but then they're positive that I was conceived without them “sinning”, so they're not exactly the sharpest tools in the box, are they?

The gold will come in handy. We need nappies for the baby, and sanitary towels for me, as I've been leaking all kind of unpleasant stuff since yesterday. Childbirth isn't for the faint-hearted, nor for the weak stomachs.

Now Joseph, be a lamb and burn some of that frankincense, while I latch on the baby, and don't peek at my boobs, thank you very much! No sex for the next 6 weeks, mister, deal with it. We must observe quarantine, and I'm in total lockdown, if you catch my drift.

In your own name, Jesus baby, stop screaming the roof down, and let mummy sit up straight. Gentlemen, do you mind? I'm trying to breastfeed your Lord here, no need to perv.

Easy tiger, you may be the Son of God, but you're a little bugger, just like any other newborn. Who's a hungry boy? Who's mummy's cheeky monkey? Who's the most beautiful little man in the world? You are, yes you are, my love.

Photo by Adele Morris on Unsplash