The Guy Who Punched Baby Jesus

Sometimes, I remember what my grandmother once said to me and asked me to never forget. “Jesus is always by your side.” That's what my grandmother used to say. Jesus is by my side when I walk. Jesus is by my side when I have lunch or dinner but he never pays for his sprite or beer. Jesus is by my side when I drive my mother's car but he keeps messing with the cd player and the radio stations changing all of my favorite songs. Jesus is by my side when I drink coffee and smoke, but he never buys his own and empties my packet. Jesus is by my side, but he pretends he's not looking when I get dragged down. But I can hear him chuckle every time this happens. Jesus is a “party bro” wearing flip flops, and the ugliest of pony tails, bullying me for being goofy and unlucky when it comes to getting laid. Jesus does the petty talk with me when I do something wrong but never celebrates with me when something goes right. Jesus lives with me but he never carries his keys and wakes me up in the middle of the night. "Let me in". Jesus has done nothing after being the main character in a book and some movies. All of them autobiographical. I wonder how does his father feel. Jesus does nothing but chuckling at my failures, smoking my cigarettes, never paying for his beer and bullying me. I'd gladly punch him, but then I think I'd be the guy who punched baby Jesus and no one would like to be facing the entire world's nuns. And nobody would want to hang with the guy who punched Jesus. And I wouldn't want to be left all alone. Or everyone would want to hang with the guy who punched Jesus but then again I don't think I could stand everyone wanting to hang out with me. Jesus that would be tiring.