As I mentioned a post or two ago, the baby Jesus in our nativity somewhat resembles a Lincoln Log. From a distance, that is. Really, up close, and when he's in the manger next to his mommy and daddy, he looks like a wooden baby. The nativity sits on our fireplace within reach of small hands because I do remember playing with the nativity as a small child and loving it. Rearranging the shepherds, the wise men and sheep. Adding a little feng-shui to the barn.
But I'm pretty sure the baby Jesus stayed in the manger. At least on my watch.
The other day, the little Lord Jesus was not asleep on the hay.
We looked. And looked. Found a wise man hanging out by the sofa. A sheep trying to infiltrate the Toy Story characters. But no baby Jesus.
Initially, I threw my hands up in the air. Baby Jesus was in the house, albeit hiding, but he would eventually emerge. Just like last June. But about 5 minutes later, I became concerned that our dog, Daisy, would find him and think he was a Lincoln Log. Daisy likes Lincoln Logs, and not to cuddle with.
So Kevin went on the hunt. And found the baby Jesus asleep under the McDonald's kitchen. Luckily, not in the fryer. And Kevin placed the infant on the mantle above the fireplace, telling the boys that Jesus could come back to the manger on Christmas.
How do I tell you that you just make me laugh so hard that I think I might need to use those "spare" clothes in my cubby?
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