And she brought forth her firstborn marshmallow, and laid him on a graham cracker, because there was no room at the campfire.
Frankly, I've never gotten the whole "s'mores" novelty thing, or even real s'mores. A marshmallow, a piece of Hershey bar and a cracker are a pitiful snack, one that never becomes more than the sum of its parts, and whose entire appeal must surely emanate from the charm of its rustic improvisation. The s'more as a decorative item also seems to be "from hunger." But as a Nativity set?
The disturbing item above, seen in a Bay Ridge gift store over the weekend, is a bizarre genre extension of Cute Non-Human Nativities, which started, I suspect, after the barely humanoid Precious Moments characters opened the floodgates to other species. Most popular is the Bear Nativity, which comes in several varieties, from cuddly teddies to rather gruesome black bears. As Best Friend tartly paraphrased St. Paul, "He was known to be of ursine estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself."
And, well...let's not even go here. Although I cannot resist observing the folly of a Pug Wise Man, unless stars were made of ham.
This sign inspired the family to extend the brand beyond marshmallows: How about a Dental Nativity? Jesus of course would be a baby tooth, Mary and Joseph the front teeth, and shepherds the incisors; angels could be molars with little halos. And don't make us tell you which teeth would play the Wise Men. (Hint: They, too, come in last.)