Santa’s Favorite Laughs: 11 Christmas Jokes to Brighten Your Holiday

Ho ho ho! Feeling festive? These Christmas jokes will have you laughing louder than Santa’s belly shake. Warning: excessive cheer, snort-laughing, and spontaneous caroling may occur. Proceed with caution… and cookies!

Jingle all the way to laughter! Grab your eggnog and settle in for some holiday hilarity. These jokes are Santa-approved and guaranteed to make you laugh harder than your uncle after too much Christmas pudding.

Santa Claus laughing in the snow | Source: Midjourney

Santa Claus laughing in the snow | Source: Midjourney

1. The Christmas Trap

Mike drummed his fingers on his desk, staring at his phone. His wife Janet gave him a knowing wink from across the room, already struggling to contain her laughter. Time for their annual Christmas scheme.

“Hey kiddo,” Mike said after his 20-year-old son picked up in Fairbanks, trying to sound devastated. “I hate to drop this bomb, but… your mother and I are getting divorced.”

“WHAT?” Ryan’s voice cracked so hard that his neighbor’s cat fell off the windowsill. “Dad, you can’t be serious! You just posted those matching Christmas sweater photos!”

A shocked young man holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

A shocked young man holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Dead serious. Can’t stand looking at her cookbooks anymore. Three hundred and forty-two sugar cookie recipes is where I draw the line. Call your sister in Sydney. I’m done talking about it.”

Ryan immediately called his sister Ashley, nearly dropping his phone in his panic. “Dad’s lost his mind! They’re getting divorced over a cookbook!”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY AND EVERY CHRISTMAS ORNAMENT I OWN!” Ashley screeched, making her office plants wilt. She speed-dialed home. “Listen here, old man! Don’t you DARE sign anything! Ryan and I are flying home TONIGHT!”

A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Mike hung up and high-fived Janet, and both of them doubled over with laughter. “Works every year. Both kids coming home for Christmas. And they’re buying their own tickets!”

Janet wiped tears from her eyes. “Should we tell them this is how we got them to come to Thanksgiving too?”

“Nah,” Mike grinned. “Let’s save that trick for Easter!”

An older man with a wicked grin | Source: Midjourney

An older man with a wicked grin | Source: Midjourney

2. The Christmas Angel

Eleanor had been working in the Dead Letter Office for five years, but she’d never seen anything quite like this — an envelope addressed simply to “God” in shaky handwriting that looked like it had been written during an earthquake.

Inside was a letter that made her heart squeeze:

“Dear God, I’m Martha, 85 years young and running low on miracles. Some sneaky youngster with unusually fast hands swiped my purse yesterday with my entire month’s pension. $120. I’ve got five dear friends coming for Christmas dinner, and now I can’t even afford a can of cranberry sauce. I know you’re busy with world peace and all, but could you spare a miracle for an old lady with a sweet tooth and empty cupboards? Love, Martha (the one with the crooked garden gnome collection at the end of Maple Street).”

A lady postal services worker reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A lady postal services worker reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

Eleanor shared the letter with her coworkers. By lunch, they’d collected $116, raiding coffee funds, lunch money, and that secret candy bar stash everyone pretended not to know about.

A week after Christmas, another letter arrived:

“Dear God, You’re a real peach! That $116 you’d left in my mailbox made for the best Christmas dinner ever! My friends said it was divine intervention. I’d say they’re right! Even my arthritis felt better!

P.S. Some sticky-fingered postal worker must’ve skimmed $4 off the top. Might want to look into that. I hear you’ve got connections with Santa’s naughty list! Love, Martha.”

A cheerful older lady enjoying Christmas dinner with her friends | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful older lady enjoying Christmas dinner with her friends | Source: Midjourney

3. North Pole Chaos

“Code Red! Code Red!” Junior Elf Timothy squeaked into the North Pole intercom, his voice cracking like ice in hot cocoa. “Four senior elves down with candy cane flu! The toy production line looks like a modern art exhibition!”

Santa rubbed his temples, watching the trainee elves turn teddy bears into abstract sculptures. Mrs. Claus chose that perfect moment to chirp, “Honey, Mother’s coming for Christmas! She’s bringing her entire fruitcake collection… even the one that set off the North Pole airport security!”

In the stables, Rudolph was organizing a reindeer union strike, demanding premium carrots and heated stalls. Dancer was in labor (terrible timing), and Prancer had eloped with a local moose named Bruce who promised her a cabin in the woods.

Startled Santa Claus | Source: Midjourney

Startled Santa Claus | Source: Midjourney

Santa trudged to load the sleigh, only to hear an ominous CRACK! The floor splintered like thin ice, sending toys scattering everywhere like confetti at a New Year’s party gone wrong.

Stumbling inside for coffee, he found the elves had replaced it with sugar-free hot chocolate with a tag that read: “It’s healthier, Boss!” The milk jug slipped from his hands, shattering into a million pieces that sparkled like evil little stars on the kitchen floor. The cleanup broom looked like it had been through a beaver party. Suddenly, the doorbell buzzed.

DING DONG!

Santa Claus holding a broom | Source: Midjourney

Santa Claus holding a broom | Source: Midjourney

Santa yanked open the door, ready to cancel Christmas entirely. There stood a tiny angel, struggling under a massive Christmas tree that made her look like a sprite with an oversized umbrella.

“Special delivery!” she beamed, twinkling with festive cheer. “Where would you like me to stick it?”

And that’s why Christmas trees have angels on top, sporting slightly alarmed expressions and questioning their career choices.

An angel under a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

An angel under a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

4. Heavenly Volume

Tommy and Jack were spending Christmas Eve at Grandma Rose’s house, famous for her legendary sugar cookies and selective hearing that rivaled military-grade noise-canceling technology.

At bedtime, Tommy (age 6) knelt beside his bed and began his strategic prayer:

“DEAR GOD, I WOULD REALLY LOVE A NEW XBOX…”

“AND A REMOTE CONTROL DINOSAUR THAT ACTUALLY BREATHES FIRE…”

“AND MAYBE A ROCKET SHIP WITH REAL ROCKET FUEL…”

A little boy praying | Source: Midjourney

A little boy praying | Source: Midjourney

Jack (age 8) nudged his brother, rolling his eyes. “Dude, volume control! God’s not streaming on Spotify!”

Tommy shot back with a mischievous grin that would make elves proud. “Yeah, but Grandma is doing her Christmas shopping tomorrow, and her hearing aid’s been acting up since she tried to bluetooth it to her toaster!”

A little boy looking up and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A little boy looking up and laughing | Source: Midjourney

5. The Shopping Surprise

Linda lost track of her husband Dave at the crowded mall during last-minute Christmas shopping. After 20 minutes of searching between the endless sea of panic-buying shoppers, she called his cell.

“Dave, where on earth did you disappear to? The mall closes in an hour!”

“Honey,” his voice softened mysteriously, “remember that fancy jewelry store from our first Christmas together? The one where you fell in love with that stunning sapphire necklace, but we were so broke we could barely afford the window shopping?”

A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Linda’s heart fluttered, her anger melting faster than a snowman in July. “The one on Fifth Street? Oh my god, Dave… you didn’t…”

“Well,” he paused dramatically, “I’m in the dollar store next door. They’re having a massive sale on gift bags! Three for a dollar! Want me to grab some?”

A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

6. The Carol Critic

“Hey Emma,” her little brother Charlie called from the doorway, munching on his third candy cane of the morning. “You should totally join the Christmas choir at school! They’re still accepting applications!”

14-year-old Emma stopped practicing her scales, hope blooming in her eyes. “Really? You actually like my singing? After all this time?”

“Nah,” Charlie grinned, revealing red and white striped teeth. “But they only perform once a year, and I already know which day to wear my noise-canceling headphones!”

A stunned teenage girl holding a songbook | Source: Midjourney

A stunned teenage girl holding a songbook | Source: Midjourney

7. The Gift Switch

At the office Christmas party, Tom was bragging about the amazing gift he got his wife Sarah, waving his phone around with photos.

“Check it out, man. Diamond earrings! Cost me a fortune, but worth every penny!”

His coworker Steve whistled, sipping his fourth cup of spiked eggnog. “But didn’t Sarah specifically ask for that new SUV? The one she’s been hinting about since last Christmas?”

“She did,” Tom smirked, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But try finding a fake Ford Explorer that’ll fool your mother-in-law!”

A man holding a pair of earrings and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a pair of earrings and laughing | Source: Midjourney

8. The Budget Tree

“Dad, pleeeease can we get a real Christmas tree this year?” little Jimmy begged for the hundredth time, giving his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m tired of explaining to my friends why our plastic tree smells like a basement and old tennis shoes!”

Frank grabbed his axe and wallet, sighing dramatically while secretly winking at his wife. “Fine. The things I do for Christmas spirit…”

He returned suspiciously quickly with a perfect tree, not a drop of sweat in sight.

A man holding an axe | Source: Midjourney

A man holding an axe | Source: Midjourney

“That was fast,” Jimmy said, eyeing the pristine axe. “Did you even use it?”

“Nope!” Frank grinned proudly. “But the tree lot guy offered a 75% discount when I started examining the trees with it! Sometimes the best lumberjack is the one who never swings!”

A stunned boy | Source: Midjourney

A stunned boy | Source: Midjourney

9. The Biblical Bird

Three brothers — Richie, Steve, and Joe — gathered for their annual post-Christmas brag-fest about their gifts to their 80-year-old mother.

Richie puffed up his chest. “I built her a mansion with an elevator and a meditation room!”

Steve smirked, twirling his car keys. “Amateur. I bought her a Rolls-Royce with a personal chauffeur!”

Joe leaned back, sipping his cocoa. “You guys are so last season. Remember how Mom loves the Bible but can’t see well? I found this amazing parrot that recites the entire Bible on command. Took the church elders twelve years to train him. Mom just has to name the chapter and verse!”

A person in church holding a parrot | Source: Midjourney

A person in church holding a parrot | Source: Midjourney

Their mother’s thank-you notes arrived the next week:

“Dear Richie: The mansion’s lovely, but I’m too old to remember which of the 7 bathrooms I left my glasses in.

Dear Steve: The car’s beautiful, but my driver keeps falling asleep during my stories.

Dear Joe: The chicken was pretty small but delicious! Especially with the sage stuffing!”

Roasted chicken on the table | Source: Midjourney

Roasted chicken on the table | Source: Midjourney

10. The Window Shopping Incident

Karen spotted the perfect Christmas party dress sparkling in the store’s window display, guaranteed to make her the talk of the office party.

“Excuse me,” she called to a passing saleswoman. “Could I try on that gorgeous shimmery dress in the window? The one with the sequins?”

The saleswoman clutched her pearls, looking thoroughly scandalized. “Absolutely not, Ma’am! We have perfectly good fitting rooms for that sort of thing. This isn’t that kind of establishment!”

A dress displayed in a store | Source: Midjourney

A dress displayed in a store | Source: Midjourney

11. The Santa Hotline

Sophie was driving her mom crazy with constant battles with her teenage sister Madison. The latest war was over borrowed (stolen) Christmas sweaters and who ate the last gingerbread cookie.

Mom had enough. “That’s it! I’m calling Santa!”

She dialed her brother Bob, resident Santa impersonator extraordinaire. Sophie’s eyes grew huge as Mom detailed her crimes against sisterhood, including the Great Hair Dryer Incident of last Tuesday.

“Santa wants a word with you,” Mom handed over the phone, trying not to smirk as her master plan unfolded.

A smiling woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

Uncle Bob dropped his voice to subterranean levels. “Sophie, Sophie, Sophie… No presents for girls who torment their sisters. I’m watching! And yes, I saw you hide that cookie under your pillow!”

Sophie nodded solemnly through the lecture, then hung up with a suspicious gleam in her eye.

“Well?” Mom asked, expecting victory. “What did Santa say?”

Sophie shrugged, skipping away. “He said Madison’s getting coal this year. Apparently, she’s the real troublemaker. Also, he said you should check your own cookie stash, Mom!”

A little girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

A little girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

And there you have it, folks! If these jokes made you laugh, share them faster than your relatives share embarrassing childhood stories at Christmas dinner! Keep spreading the holiday cheer with these 10 More Best Christmas Jokes. Ho ho ho!

Cheerful Santa Claus laughing | Source: Midjourney

Cheerful Santa Claus laughing | Source: Midjourney

Entitled Parents Demand $1000 from Nanny for Vacation Plane Tickets – The Lesson They Learned Was Harsh

Jane’s employers plan a luxurious holiday away, tagging her along to look after their children. While they promised that they would take care of all the expenses, it is only when they return home that they demand that Jane play her part and pay for her plane tickets. But Jane won’t give up that easily.“Jane, can you come into the living room?” Mrs. Smith called out, her teaspoon clinking as she stirred sugar into the cup of tea Melanie, the helper, had just given her. I was tidying up the playroom. “Now, please,” she added. Her tone was sweet, but something felt off. I walked into the living room, trying to keep my nerves at bay. “Sure, Mrs. Smith. What’s up?” I replied, wiping the disinfectant onto my jeans. She was sitting on the couch, perfectly poised as always. Not even a strand of hair out of place. Mr. Smith was seated beside her, his phone in his hand. He gave me a tight smile.“

Jane, we need to talk about the vacation.” I nodded, curious. We had been home for two days now. Back from our trip to the seaside, staying in a luxurious resort. It was almost the break I needed, minus the fact that I had the Smiths’ three children, and their friends, the Johnsons’ two sons to care for as well. I was just doing my job in a fancier location. “Of course,” I said. “It was a lovely trip. Thank you again for inviting me.” “Yes, well,” Mrs. Smith started. “We need to discuss the plane tickets. When will you be able to return the $1000?”I blinked. I was sure that I had misheard her. “Sorry, $1000? For the tickets? What?” “Yes, for the tickets, Jane,” she spoke slowly as if I was stupid. “We spent a lot on them, and we thought you’d be grateful enough to pay us back.” My heart raced. I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I was their full-time nanny, with a mother to care for at home. “ But you told me that everything was sorted. You said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Jane. We’ve got it all covered.’” Mrs. Smith’s expression hardened. Mr. Smith gazed at me.“That was before the Johnsons refused to sign a business deal with Craig. That was the entire purpose of the holiday. Mr. Smith and I needed to woo them. So, there’s no need to seem generous now, Jane. You have exactly one week to return the money, or it will be taken from your pay.” I was stunned. The room felt like it was spinning. “But… I can’t afford that, Mrs. Smith,” I admitted. “Most of my salary goes to the rent at home and my mother’s medication. I can’t take that away from her. And you didn’t mention anything about paying you back!” “That’s not our problem, Jane. One week,” Mr. Smith reiterated, reaching for a croissant from the tea tray left for Mrs. Smith. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the end of the discussion. That night, I sat in my tiny room a few feet away from the Smiths’ house. I was seething. How could they do this? I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.Then it hit me: the Smiths cared deeply about their social standing and their reputation. “Of course, that’s all they care about,” I muttered to myself as I brushed my teeth before bed. “But I can use that to my advantage.” The next day, after I dropped the kids off at school, I created a fake email account. I drafted a polite but detailed message about my experience, making sure to be clear without naming any names. But there were enough telltale signs pointing to the Smiths, from their cars to the kids, to the gold facial appointments that Mrs. Smith bragged about. Thereafter, I sent it to the key people in their social circle, including the other influential families that the Smiths wanted to be in league with.“I just don’t understand what they want from us,” I overheard Mrs. Smith say into the phone later that day. “Eva asked me if everything is true, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.” A few days later, the gossip started spreading. The Smiths’ dirty little secret on how they treated “their staff” was out, and naturally, their reputation took a hit. Mrs. Smith called in a masseuse to soothe her muscles. “Just let them into the spa when they arrive, Jane,” she said. “I need all the help I can get.” Later that day, when I went to pick the kids up from school, the other nannies were hanging about, waiting for the bell to ring.“Did you read the email about the Smiths?” one of the nannies said. “Jane, are they really like that?” I nodded. “They’re good parents, but they’re horrible people,” I admitted, not wanting to give away that I was the person who sent out the email. “How long will you work for them?” another asked me. “I couldn’t live or work under those circumstances. Rich people need to learn that respect for them is earned, too.” I smiled. The nannies went back and forth as we waited. And through their chatter, I discovered something interesting about Mrs. Smith.Turns out that my employer had a habit of “borrowing” items from her friends and never returning them. “An entire Gucci handbag, Jane,” Mina said. “Mrs. Smith asked my ma’am if she could borrow it for a fundraising gala two months ago.” “That’s ridiculous!” I said, shocked. “I didn’t know that she was capable of that sort of thing. But she doesn’t like me getting too close to her things anyway.” A few days later, Mrs. Smith held one of her ladies’ luncheons. It was a monthly event that she loved hosting, but this time it was only two weeks into the month. “I need this to go well, Jane,” she said as I cut fruit up for the kids. “So, you need to attend it. The kids will be at school. Everything will be catered for. Just walk around and talk to the women. Make us seem human.”I knew that she was puzzling. She must have heard more than enough through the grapevine. During the event, I walked around as requested of me. But I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip. And I had nothing to lose. The Smiths were probably going to fire me at the end of the week when I couldn’t make the $1000. “We’ll deal with it, darling,” my mother coughed into the phone when I told her the truth of the matter. At the luncheon, I walked around, casually mentioning to the ladies how much I admired Mrs. Smith’s collection, making sure that I spoke to Eva, Mina’s employer. “Mrs. Smith has a stunning handbag similar to yours,” I said. “Gucci. Did she lend you this one? She’s always telling me that she lends her things out because she has so much.”Eva looked at me over the top of her champagne glass. “Is that so, Jane?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. Whispers started circulating. By the end of the luncheon, Mrs. Smith’s reputation for borrowing without returning was the hot topic. The next morning, her friends began asking for their things back. Mrs. Smith was mortified. During dinner the next night, Mr. Smith called me to the table, asking me to join them. “Thank you, but I usually wait for Ivy and Melanie to eat,” I said politely, mentioning the chef and her helper. “No, sit with us,” he insisted. I obliged. Despite his tone, I hoped that maybe he was going to tell me that the money could be forgotten. And that everything would return as normal. “It has come to my attention that an anonymous email has gone out,” he said, cutting into his steak. “A disgusting email,” Mrs. Smith added, taking a long sip of her wine. “Did you have anything to do with it?” he asked me, his eyes trying to coax a confession out of me. I shook my head, looking down at my plate. “Then that settles it,” he said, knowingly. “You’re dismissed. You can pack up and get out tomorrow.” I did exactly as I was told and moved back home. A week later, Mrs. Johnson called me. “Jane, can you come over for tea?” she asked warmly. “Of course, Mrs. Johnson,” I replied, curious about the nature of the invitation. As we sat in her luxurious living room, she looked at me with genuine concern. “I heard about what the Smiths did to you. It’s disgraceful.” I nodded, trying to keep my composure. “Well,” she continued. “We’ve decided to cut ties with the Smiths entirely. And we’d like to offer you a job. Better pay, better working conditions. We could use someone like you for our kids.” I was stunned. “Of course!” I exclaimed. I needed the job desperately. “You’ve earned it,” she smiled. “The boys loved having you watch them during the holiday. And somehow, you got Jonathan to eat his peas!” I don’t know how the Smiths reacted to me working for the Johnsons, but I hoped that they felt betrayed. What would you have done?

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*