there were no secrets kept that might

It's Christmas Eve. It's raining. None of the presents are wrapped. We're watching "Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer." Brittany cries when all of the other reindeer laugh and call Rudolph names. 

Raphael's roasting chestnuts. 

Chelsea's reading an article in Teen People about stigmata.

The phone rings.

Nobody answers it.

"I'm at home in almost any environment," Courtney says after introducing herself as The Castrating B***h.

That's when I bail on 'em. Go upstairs to my bedroom. Kneel beside my bed unselfconsciously. Pray for a change.

Knock knock, "You okay?" says an unrecognizable voice.

"Fine!" I say.

"We're playing Monopoly! Wanna play?"

I finally place the voice. It's Sunshine, the platinum-blond transvestite.

"No thanks!" I say.

Platform shoes walk away.

The wind picks up.

I overhear the following snatch of dialogue in the hallway.

"I have a degree in biology from Vassar… Plants can reproduce sexually or asexually… See? Tol'ja, I had a degree."

Outside my window, the carolers have hunkered down. They're in their raincoats and standing under golf umbrellas.

"Hark the herald angels sing…"

One of the carolers has forgotten the words. 

I open the window.

Fortunately, I don't slip a disc. 

I start singing. It's on key. Wet, but on key.

The carolers cringe.

Then knock knock. "We're going out!" says the chick with the Band-Aid on her chin.

A debacle of epic proportions.

"No thanks!" I say without any guilt.

Galoshes walks away.

In the distance, I hear you explaining Immaculate Conception to 7-year-old Gabriel.

"Mary," you say. "Was conceived without Sin. And Jesus was born to Virgin Mary through a miraculous act of God…"

Gabriel thinks about this for a minute. "Is that how I was born, too?" he asks.

"Uhm, not exactly," you say. "But you are a miracle."

Gabriel understands almost everything except the part about being conceived without Sin.

"My teacher said that Sin is a Mesopotamian moon god."

"Really," you say.

"Yep," Gabriel says, returning to his room to blow his horn.

That's when sleep takes hold of me.

And I dream, once again, of being a child in a manger.