I Looked Out the Window On Christmas Day

I looked out the window on Christmas Day, and the sky was pink and blue - powder pink and baby blue, like the fuzzy blankets in maternity ward cribs.

"Looks like a baby party in heaven!" I said.

They're breaking out all the baby pictures and videos of the Epiphany and stuff.

(Heaven is sort of "outside of time," so even though none of it had been invented yet, each of the invisible angels thronging in 'round that humble hutch in Bethlehem that sacred eve was clutching a camcorder, a polaroid, something to document the event. It was, after all, pretty big news.

"Oooooooo my goodness!"

"Is that God? How can that be God?"

"Look at his tiny feet! Look how at little his hands are!

All the Heavenly chorus as one: "He's just a BAAAAAAAAYBEEE!!!"

Those angels who previously had not quite made up their minds about humanity were all won over, that day.)

And today up in heaven, there's a baby party. Big ol' grown-up Jesus is up there, he's looking down at his feet, shaking his head all embarrassed. Laughing.

"Come on! That was so long ago now."

"You guys do this every year."

"My nose did not look like that."

The angels will never get over how cute that little nose was.

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