An Interview with the Nativity Donkey

Your name, please.

Donkey.

That’s your name? Donkey?

Hey if the creators of Shrek weren’t smart enough to come up with a donkey’s name, Mary and Joseph certainly weren’t. They weren’t exactly the brightest. People just don’t bother with donkey’s names anymore.

How about Eeyore, he’s a donkey.

Wow , that’s a pretty name isn’t it! It sounds like a derailing train. Don’t give Milne any credit for that – remember his other characters, he had rabbit and piglet, tigger, which ,let’s face it is just tiger with an extra ‘g’, and worst of all Kanga and Roo.

Ok, not a fan of Winnie the Pooh then. How about Bottom, from Midsummer Night’s dream?

I think I’ll stick with donkey. I’d rather not draw attention to my backside. As if I don’t get enough ‘nice ass’ wise cracks already.

Anyway, moving on. You belonged to the Joseph and the virgin Mary.

Right.

And in fact carried them to Bethlehem.

Yep that was me, unfortunately.

How do you mean?

Well, that’s not gonna be fun is it? I mean, Mary was a big girl at the best of times, let alone when she was pregnant. And the amount of luggage! For simple folk they sure were obsessed with their toiletries. My back felt like it was going to collapse.

But they had to get to Bethlehem, for the census.

Census Shmensus. It was the foot races. Bethlehem versus Cana. Also there was a touring theatre troupe from Greece. Only appearance in Judea. That’s why the selfish oafs wanted to go. I don’t even think they were from Bethlehem. I mean, think about it, if it was their ancestral home, why couldn’t a cousin have lent them a couch? Why did Mary end up giving birth in a bleedin’ animal shed? There are some seriously strange family dynamics here, that are conveniently being left unquestioned if you ask me.

Okay. So you finally get there. And you can’t find a place to stay.

Oh goodness. That was tough. We asked everywhere but the place was packed. Foot races. Theatre troupes. And such. But in the end this little ginger guy said we could stay in his animal shed.

And how was that?

Well, the other animals weren’t too pleased.

How do you mean?

Well there they are enjoying their nice quiet evening, when all of a sudden a screaming pregnant lady barged in. Then everything finally quietens down again and then silly old Joseph goes and plonks the baby down in the manger.

What’s wrong with that?

Do you know what a manger is?

As far as I know, it’s the place you put infant messiahs.

It’s a food trough for animals.

Oh. Interesting.

“Oh, interesting” is right. Let me ask you. So your baby is born, and the first thing you do is put him in an open container filled with grain and covered in oxen drool? I told you they weren’t the brightest. And then some idiot says, ‘look, the animals, they are adoring the baby’. And I say, adoring, hell. They’re wondering why there’s a baby in their dinner. The worst part was they all seemed to blame me.

So you weren’t very welcome.

Welcome? About as much as a fart in an elevator.

On the other hand, the image of the Baby Jesus in the manger is a classic one.

I suppose a Christmas carol called “Away in a Hotel Room” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

It’s said that a star appeared on the night when Jesus was born. Did you see it?

There were loads of stars, always are.

It’s said it was bright enough to lead the Three Wise Men to your inn.

Well, three men showed up at the inn. I don’t know how wise they were.

How do you mean?

The baby is born, right? And then these guys show up. And they say, we have brought gifts for the child. And I say, that’s nice, what did you bring. And they say, we have brought gold and frankincense and myrrh. And I say, you’ve got to be kidding.

What’s wrong with that?

Well it’s the middle of winter and we’re stuck outside in a freezing cold barn, and they’re giving the kid gold. Really? And not, oh, I don’t know, a blanket? A newborn infant is exhibiting signs of possible hypothermia and your response is to give him cold metal objects?

So you think the gifts were inappropriate.

What’s wrong with diapers? A nice jumper or two? A Baby Bjorn? Although that frankincense came in handy – that barn really did stink.

I think the idea is that all the gifts were fit for a king.

Yes, a king who first pooped in my dinner. I would have appreciated a gift of diapers.

Point taken.

And another thing, they brought all these expensive gifts, but do you ever hear about Joe and Mary and Jesus being anything but poor? Or at the very most working class?

Now that you mention it, no. Unfortunately that’s all we have time for, thanks for coming in.