Poor Baby Jesus. First, he gets gold, a gift his non-materialistic world view could never appreciate. Then, he gets frankincense and myrrh, incenses he would only be able to appreciate in his later, hippie years. Finally, he gets bombarded with a surely horrifying, erratic drum performance from the Little Drummer Boy. Last I checked, a pounding drum doesn’t exactly provide a soothing soundtrack for a newborn baby or his parents.
And how delusional is the Little Drummer Boy? Just look at the final lyrics of his song.
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
He’s smiling because you stopped the incessant flailing of your limbs at your cheap drum, Little Drummer Boy. Shame on you. You’re lucky Jesus is pretty laid back.
And where were the little drummer boy’s parents while all this was happening? Probably too busy reading the latest scrolls to worry about what their kid was up to.
Cue: Billy Joel – We Didn’t Start The Fire