COMEDIC CHRISTENINGS
A Shepherd’s Guide: Buying Gifts for Prophesied Infants
Great ideas to honor a miraculous birth
As a shepherd, I have attended myriad births — mostly foretold or prophesied. I have my finger on the pulse of the needs of new parents with babies in mangers everywhere. Many think journeying from afar on foot is gift enough, but witnessing a miraculous birth requires presents greater than one’s lowly presence.
No one should crash a birth site without knowing the background of the new parents and to whom homage should be paid. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched strangers stumble upon a cradle made out of hay. These miscreants pick up some sand and shove it in their empty liquor bottles.
“Here’s my gift!” they offer.
It’s offensive and so obvious.
On one such event, a couple of drunk nomads claimed they “followed a star” to a wailing infant.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” one wasted bro-mad asked.
Even the animals rolled their eyes in disgust.
It makes me cringe to see other shepherds and wise men commit new birth no-nos. I don’t want anyone else to bring their weight in gold as a gift to a child who can’t appreciate its value. Nor do I want people to slave over their gifts only to see others show up empty-handed. I long to see the journeys of birth witnesses become less cumbersome. Thus, I’ve created a guide to ensure the success of the gifts you bring to newborn saviors, prophesied kings, and everyday babies alike.
If you have no gifts to bring, don’t worry — I’ve got you covered there too.
Frankincense and myrrh, or patchouli
Years may pass before you’re invited to a foretold birth. Dejection threatens to overwhelm. Your neighbors, The Uprights, were invited to trek five hundred miles on foot to witness the birth of kings and queens — for two years in a row. Even now, five years later, they can’t stop bragging about their witness. At the summer BBQ this year, the Uprights managed to sneak references to the miracle they saw into every conversation.
“Hey, Uprights! How are you?” you asked as you flipped burgers on the grill.
“’Still basking in the glow of witnessing two prophecies,” they chime in unison.
Ignore ’em! You’ll get your invite soon. Everyone witnesses a prophecy come to fruition eventually. And, you have more time to ensure you have gifts on hand.
The Uprights haphazardly grabbed diapers to give one king. By the time they arrived at the birth scene, the foretold child was three years old. Bob Upright never humble brags about this embarrassment.
Frankincense and myrrh sound auspicious and majestic, but mystery surrounds the true nature of these gifts. What practical uses do they hold? If you announce the presents in a regal tone, new parents will weep with delight. The overpowering scent of your gifts will also mask the odorous cornucopia of animal feces.
Your local apothecary doesn’t carry frankincense or myrrh? Wow. I shudder to think of the state of your town. However, a wise man once let me in on a secret substitution. Patchouli does the trick too.
One minute of a patchouli-scented candle will last seventeen hours — it’s an endless gift. And, long after the potent candle has been snuffed, a cloying hint of patchouli lingers. Hippies will rejoice across the globe. No one will ever forget your present.
Drum solos for shrieking babies
Nothing says, “I’ve come to honor your miraculous birth” like the ongoing “pa rum pa rum pum” of drumsticks.
In my line of work, I often encounter people who avoid miraculous birth attendance due to a lack of finances. “I have no gift to bring,” they say. When I attempt to assuage their fears, they interrupt me.
“That’s fit to give a king, I mean.”
I know if I stop their endless stream of consciousness, they’ll feel ignored. Thus, I let these people vent their anxieties so I can help them overcome negative inner voices. No money, no problem!
When cost is an issue, get creative! Do you have a god-given talent or passion? Can you play an instrument? Tired, homeless teenage parents and their non-stop wailing babies enjoy drum solos.
Nothing says, “I’ve come to honor your miraculous birth” like the ongoing “pa rum pa rum pum” of drumsticks. One would think exhausted parents would prefer paper cuts to their eyeballs over a non-stop drum solo. However, most parents of infants love the rumble of booming drums. Electric guitars work even better, but good luck dragging an amplifier across miles of barren desert hills.
Is the miraculous birth you’ve come to witness located in the Scottish Highlands rather than the Middle East? Consider bringing your bagpipes. Parents just want to know your gift is heartfelt. When standing next to the baby’s cradle, an hour of blowing your bagpipes will work just as well as — if not better than — shoving a large drum next to the infant’s ear.
If your holiday season is heavily scheduled with prophesied birth attendance, I hope my guide will help save you time and wasted energy. And, with the purchase of a hardback copy of A Shepherd’s Guide, each reader will receive a free copy of my international bestseller, Crazy or Prophet? My Kid Is Eating Locusts.
You can find more attempts at humor from Sarah Paris here.