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One Christmas Eve a long time ago, Santa was having a terrible time of it. The reindeer were sick with some disgusting stomach bug, and it was a full-time job just keeping the stables mucked out. Electric toys were all the rage with the kids these days, and transitioning the toyshop away from little red wagons and handcrafted wooden trucks to Xboxes and Playstations had not gone well at all. Mrs. Claus wanted to experiment with an open marriage. But the worst part was, all the elves were on strike, and he had to hire a bunch of angels as temps. And angels, while great at singing, delivering messages, and protecting private property from evicted former tenants, are not well-suited to manufacturing or large-scale distribution of physical goods.
So, as Santa was standing knee-deep in reindeer sh!t, arguing with the elves' shop foreman about working conditions, pay scales, and benefits, and wondering whether he was even going to be able to get the sleigh up in the air this year at all, the littlest angel interrupted him to ask where he wanted her to put the tree.
And that, children, is why we put an angel on top of the Christmas tree every year.
So, as Santa was standing knee-deep in reindeer sh!t, arguing with the elves' shop foreman about working conditions, pay scales, and benefits, and wondering whether he was even going to be able to get the sleigh up in the air this year at all, the littlest angel interrupted him to ask where he wanted her to put the tree.
And that, children, is why we put an angel on top of the Christmas tree every year.