“Abraham!” God commanded. “Take your son to the mountain and make him a sacrifice to me.” But Abraham had a multitude of sons by many wives. That’s how they did it back then. Many wives. Some said it was better that way.
“Lord,” Abraham replied, “can you tell me which son, I have so many.” “Your firstborn” “Just the one, Lord? Really, there are so many I don’t remember all their names.” “Just the one, Abraham, it’s not a big deal.” “Are you sure? Honestly, Lord, I can’t find them all jobs as it is.” “Ok, fine, take a couple.” “The firstborn and one other?” “It doesn’t matter, you choose.”
Then Abraham was seized by fear, and beseeched God: “Lord, please spare my daughter. For I say unto you, she’s quite a looker!” And God replied, “Let’s just forget I said anything.”