Blasphemous self-consolations.

I get pretty intense baby lust during Christmas. All those images of the new little family with the angelic sleeping baby switch on something fierce and I find myself feeling a bit sad about my situation. The music is to blame, too. I can only think of one Christmas carol that presents the realities of parenthood, and that one's in Spanish--"Los peces en el rio," with its mention of diaper washing and the sore hands that result. And I can only think of one Christmas song ("Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella") in which yacky visitors to the stable are chastised for risking waking the baby.

What if the Baby Jesus was really a colicky wailer?

Allergic to donkey hair?

A not-so-tiny trial to his parents?

The Bible doesn't say, so I'm going to assume that he was, because believing this will help get me through the holiday self-pity-free.

Here are some possible adjustments to the Christmas carols:

The *%@!! cattle are lowing, the Baby they wake
Then little Lord Jesus a ruckus He makes

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The Child, the Child, wailing in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
If we just can get through this night

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Shall I play for you, pa-rum-puh-pum-pum
On my drum?
Mary shook her head and said, "Are you a sadist, drummer punk?? I just got Him to sleep!"

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Yea, Lord, we greet Thee,
Born this happy morning;
Why are You crying--is it something we said?
Word of the Father,
Now in flesh, and wailing
Yes, come, you may adore Him,
But please be very quiet
No, really--SUPER quiet
Or don't come at all.

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A thrill of hope, the weary pair rejoices
For yonder lies their Child, still at last
Fall on your knees
But please don't wake Him up
We don't want those gifts
We'd rather have some sleep
And if you sing that high note here
We'll kick you out.

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Endless night, sleepless night!
All was calm, 'til you turned on the light
We know you came to adore our sweet Child
So put Him to sleep, since you got Him riled.
Dream of heavenly peace,
Where is the heavenly peace?

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Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o’er the plains
Woke the Baby Jesus up
As did all the passing trains.

Glo-oooooo-ooooo-oooooria, in excelsis Deo!
That's ve-e-ry-y pre-tty-y bu-ut please ke-ep i-it down out there! That is what we pray-o.

Shepherds, why this jubilee?
Why your joyous strains prolong?
Use your inside voices, please
If you insist on singing songs.

Glo-oooooo-ooooo-oooooria, in excelsis Deo!
Why aa-are yo-oou still si-iin-gi-ing, have yo-oou no-o pi-i-ty? Ple-ease do not stay-o.