“Ball Humbug! A Hilarious Ornament Christmas”

“Ball Humbug! A Hilarious Ornament Christmas” By Edward J. McCoul

The clock struck midnight, and all was still in the living room—except for the Christmas tree. A cozy Douglas fir decked out in lights and ornaments stood proudly in the corner, its baubles shimmering in the faint glow. Little did anyone know, this tree wasn’t just a decoration. The ornaments on it were alive, and they had some serious opinions.

At the top, near the glowing star, hung Glory, a golden ball inscribed with “Peace on Earth.” She liked to think she was the wisest of the bunch. Below her dangled Jingle, a red and green bell ornament who jingled whenever he laughed (which was often). Frosty, a snowman ornament with an awkwardly painted grin, had a habit of interrupting. Then there was Twinkle, a silver disco-ball-shaped ornament who thought he was the life of the party.

“Okay, everyone,” Glory began in her usual lofty tone. “It’s almost Christmas Eve, the most sacred night of the year. Let’s keep the chatter down and remember the true meaning of Christmas.”

Twinkle spun slightly on his hook, catching the light. “You mean me, right? Because I’m the sparkle that keeps this tree looking fabulous.”

“Oh, please,” huffed Jingle, his bell jingling with exasperation. “Twinkle, you’re more full of yourself than Santa’s sack on Christmas Eve.”

“Speaking of Santa,” Frosty piped up, “do you think he ever feels weird about sharing Christmas with Jesus? I mean, one’s the Savior of humanity, and the other sneaks into houses to drop off toys.”

“Careful, Frosty,” Glory warned. “Santa works for the Big Guy. He brings joy to kids, but Jesus brings salvation. It’s a team effort.”

Twinkle snorted. “So Santa’s like the intern?”

Frosty laughed so hard he nearly unhooked himself. “Imagine! ‘Ho, ho, ho, I’m here to file your heavenly paperwork!’”

“Quiet!” Glory snapped. “We should be reverent, not ridiculous.”

But the ornaments were in rare form that night. Jingle decided to join the mischief. “Hey, Frosty,” he said, eyeing the candy cane ornaments nearby, “what do you call a candy cane that gets all twisted up?”

Frosty shook his head. “What?”

“A can’t-y cane!” Jingle burst into jingles of laughter, and even Glory cracked a small chuckle.

Suddenly, the baubles near the bottom of the tree started whispering. Holly, a green ball decorated with holly leaves, whispered something to Berry, her red counterpart. Their giggling caught everyone’s attention.

“What’s going on down there?” Glory asked suspiciously.

Berry’s voice trembled with laughter. “It’s Spark. He’s thinking about it again!”

A collective groan rippled through the tree. Spark was a bright orange ornament who had one dream—to launch himself off the tree like a comet.

“Spark,” Glory said sternly, “we’ve been over this. Ornaments don’t fly. You’re not a star, no matter how much glitter you have.”

“But what if I could?” Spark said, his voice brimming with excitement. “I could soar through the air, spread Christmas cheer, and land…well, somewhere soft, hopefully.”

“Don’t,” Glory warned. “No, don’t!”

But before she could stop him, Spark wiggled furiously on his hook and leaped. For a moment, he actually looked majestic, glimmering as he arced through the air.

Then he hit the coffee table with a dull thud.

The entire tree erupted into laughter. Jingle was practically jingling off his branch. “Oh, Spark, you sparked my night! That was spectacularly awful!”

Twinkle was spinning uncontrollably. “Somebody call Rudolph, we’ve got a replacement for the sleigh!”

Even Glory had to stifle a chuckle. “Spark,” she sighed, “what in heaven’s name were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Spark said groggily from the table, “that I need a thicker layer of glitter.”

As the laughter died down, Glory tried to steer the conversation back to Christmas. “Let’s remember why we’re here, everyone. This tree celebrates Jesus’s birth. It’s about love, hope, and faith.”

“Agreed,” said Jingle, his bell chiming gently now. “We’re just lucky to be part of it. After all, Christmas is a miracle.”

“And laughter is part of the joy,” Frosty added.

Twinkle nodded. “Even if it involves face-planting onto a coffee table.”

Glory smiled at her quirky companions. “Fine. Just keep the jokes lighthearted and the antics to a minimum. We’re here to remind everyone of the light of the world, not to audition for a circus.”

As the night wore on, the ornaments settled into a more peaceful mood. They admired the glowing lights, the cozy room, and the love that surrounded the tree. And despite all the laughter and chaos, they knew that the true meaning of Christmas shone through it all—celebrating the birth of Jesus, the ultimate gift of hope and joy.

From his spot on the coffee table, Spark sighed contentedly. “You know,” he said, “even if I’m not a star, I think I’ve still got the Christmas spirit.”

“You sure do, Spark,” Glory said softly. “And that’s what matters most.”

The room was silent for a moment, the ornaments basking in the glow of the Christmas lights. Then, a soft voice broke the silence. It was Holly, the green ball ornament. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a real holly leaf. To feel the wind and the sun.”

Berry, her red counterpart, nodded. “And to be part of a wreath on someone’s door, welcoming them home.”

Glory smiled. “We all have our dreams. But remember, we’re here for a reason. We bring joy and beauty to this home. And that’s a wonderful thing.”

Twinkle spun slowly, reflecting the lights. “I guess we all have our roles to play. Even if it’s just to make someone smile.”

Jingle chimed in, his bell ringing softly. “And that’s the magic of Christmas. It’s about bringing light and love into the world, in whatever way we can.”

Frosty grinned. “Even if it means making a fool of ourselves sometimes.”

The ornaments laughed, their voices blending into a harmonious chorus. They knew that they were part of something special, something bigger than themselves. And as they settled into a peaceful silence, they felt a deep sense of contentment.

Outside, the snow began to fall, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. Inside, the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, its ornaments shining brightly. And in that moment, everything felt right.

The ornaments knew that they were part of a beautiful tradition, one that brought joy and warmth to the hearts of those who celebrated it. And as they looked forward to the coming days, they felt a renewed sense of purpose and hope.

For they were not just decorations. They were symbols of love, joy, and the true spirit of Christmas. And that was something worth celebrating.