Incidentally it is Christmas

Honey is big with child and the child in question belongs to her baby daddy whom she calls “hubby” even though their common law arrangement would generally favor boyfriend over husband.

The narrator refers to him as “Cowboy” although he is more of a car or truck boy, no cows in sight.

It is winter which means that Hubby is wearing jeans with his wifebeater T-shirt and Honey is wearing a faux fur hunting cap, flaps pulled down.

They are traipsing through snow and the beagle puppy in Cowboy’s arms whimpers and squirms in the cold.

They have run out of gas and it is dusk. Cowboy is scanning the darker corners of a parking lot for an early model car with easy gas tank entry. They need to “borrow” a couple of gallons to get home.

The fading light, the young impoverished couple trudging toward shelter evoke the memories of a sacred crèche until one is able to discern the nature of their quest and the utter absence of either a donkey or a sacred city.

No. This is a different. One cannot see Joseph in a muscle T siphoning gas from a beat up chevy cavalier.

Petty larceny on the road to Bethlehem? Only if it is Pennsylvania.

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