I Might Be Jesus

At 7:25 a.m. the morning of Christmas in 1997, a baby boy emerged out of the womb of a woman in pain, in a grotesque process of life we call childbirth. Don’t picture that. Instead, picture yourself tearing “A Christmas Story” wrapping paper off of a 10 pound present on Christmas morning while listening to the angelic voice of Mariah Carey singing “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” You have waited patiently for nine months for this gift, and you know exactly what you are going to do with it when you its in your possession. The moment you see your gift, in all its shining glory, you go into tunnel vision, and cry as you hold it in your hands. It is everything you wanted and more. After the last bits of sticky wrapping paper are wiped off, it is beautiful. That is how I picture my birth. I don’t want to sound excessively narcissistic and self-confident, but let’s be honest, I am the best Christmas gift my mom has and will ever receive.

That’s right, my parents found out they were pregnant with me on Easter, and 16 years ago I was born on what some may call the best day of the year. Christmas is one of the most important Christian holidays: as you hopefully know by now, it commemorates the birth of Jesus Christ. I know it’s hard to share a birthday with a friend, or even a family member, but I share my birthday with the most historically significant person to ever exist. Whether you’re religious or not, we all know Jesus is basically the original celebrity, and his birthday is far more popular than mine, despite the fact that they fall on the same day. It’s also certain that I am not the only one receiving gifts on my birthday; 364 gifts were given during the popular song “Twelve Days of Christmas” alone.

After telling people my birthday, I’ve heard that I “look like a Christmas baby,” whatever that means. I seize to find any striking resemblance between Jesus and me. No, I do not get “double the presents” or “screwed over” because my birthday “is actually on Christmas Day?!” I know this is an extremely obscure concept and its impossible to put yourself in this position, but let me ask you this: Do you celebrate Christmas? Do you have a birthday? If you receive gifts on both of these days, than we probably get the same amount of stuff. I’ve thought about and been recommended to change my birthday to June 25, my half-birthday, but as I’ve grown up I’ve learned that there are truly far more important things in life than trying to maximize my gift-getting and soiree-celebrating.

So, as all great pieces about birthdays on Christmas end, I would like to thank my parents for ruining my life….I’m kidding. I’m fine with being called a “Christmas Baby” whether I’m 16 or 60. Shoot, call me a “miracle” while you’re at it. But I promise you, I really don’t mind being born this magical day.

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