Christmas Chronicles: A Comical Trip Down Memory Lane

Merry Christmas, dear hiveans, I hope you're well and having a Christmas celebration to remember. I'm doing the same, and today I've decided to light up a day a little further by sharing some of my funny Christmas experiences, which literally got me laughing as I reminisced on them. I hope you enjoyed the read and that it put a smile on your faces. So without further ado, come along as I take you through it all.

Jollof rice competition:

It was Christmas Day, and we were having fun as an extended family as we gathered at our grandparents place to celebrate Christmas just as we always do every year. The atmosphere was one of love and celebration, and that very year our uncle Lere, who was well known in our family for his love of food, gave us the idea of having a fastest eating competition. I had in mind that this would be an opportunity for him to eat as much food as possible.   His idea was accepted, and immediately four of my uncles and one aunt of mine volunteered to participate in the competition. The first place was a plate of pounded yam in front of them, and my uncle Lere, the food lover and the brain of the competition, finished eating first. With the fun we derived from watching the adults fool themselves, we decided to continue the competition, and this time around it was with a plate of rice. My aunt and one other uncle opted out, and that left us with just three competitors.

A plate of jollof rice was placed in front of each of them, and Uncle Lere completed his food in less than a minute while others were still battling with theirs. He boasted that if they gave him another food, he'd still finish before them, and that was given to him, which he began to aggressively devour, but not long into eating the second plate, he got choked by the rice, and before you know it, he was vomiting all around the place.   It was a horrible experience, and we had to clean him and the living room up. I guess what happened affected his health, and throughout the remaining days we spent at the grandparents, Uncle Lere could hardly finish a plate of rice; in fact, he was made a laughing stock each time we wanted to make jokes around the house during that Christmas season.

The walking dead chicken:

One faithful day in another year, we were also at my grandparents place to celebrate Christmas. Our parents had informed us, the young ones, that since we've witnessed them kill and dress chicken on many occasions, it's high time we do it ourselves so we can perfect how to do that. We were asked to take one of the chickens in the cage, kill it, and prepare it before it's placed inside the soup.

I and one of the cousins walked up to the cage and took a chicken. We then tried to cut its neck, although we didn't see any blood. Since the chicken was stiff, we decided it must be dead, so we took it to the hot water to remove its feathers. The unexpected, and probably one of the funniest things I ever saw, happened while we were doing that.

Not long into removing the feathers, the chicken seems to have come back to life and ran outside the kitchen for its dare. It was a horrible and yet funny sight to behold, because the chicken literally seems to have no feathers again on its body, and yet it's running around the street naked, crying at the top of its voice. We couldn't catch it again, despite how much we chased it, and our parents had to pick another chicken to kill. Luckily for us, the runaway walking dead chicken came back to its cage later that night to sleep, and we were able to apprehend it before morning.

The dancing police:

It was one of my earliest memories of celebrating Christmas, and I was probably between the ages of 10 and 12. Just like every Christmas, I was having fun with my peers and having a lot to eat from both at home and the neighbors,but this year my friends decided to make me throw a knockout popularly known as banger down here, and that's because in the previous Christmas I'd usually not done so because of the warning of my parents not to go near it.   Luckily for me, my parents went out for a second, and I and my friends saw that as the perfect timing for me to have my first throw of the knockout, which they lit up while we were walking along the street and gave to me to throw away. Looking at how fast the fire on the knockout was burning out, I literally panicked and threw the knockout towards my back, only for us to look back and see what I'd done.

The knockout I threw fell comfortably into the chest pocket of a police officer who was walking behind us on the street. The panic of getting the knockout out of his pocket got him jumping around as though he were dancing, but we dare not laugh. But as I reminisced about this, I couldn't help but laugh. Luckily, he got the knockout out of his pocket before it started sounding, and then they pounded on us. We received the beating of our lives that very day from the police, who couldn't take us in because we're minions, and on the very first day I threw a knockout, I vow never to throw it again.

That's all for now on my funny Christmas chronicles; I hope you enjoyed the read and it made you smile. Have a wonderful Christmas and stay blessed.

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