punched in the face

First, let us pray:  Dear 7-pound, 8-ounce sweet newborn, but still with dreadlocks and a do-rag, dark-skinneded baby Jesus. We come unto you, dear Lord, to give praise. To offer up our most precious hallelujahs, amens and “Do that shit, Savior” supplications. For it was you, our melanin messiah, who, after a week of our…