Father Christmas has a cold: a funny Christmas story

3 min read · For: Ages 3–5 Ages 6–9

One morning, Father Christmas woke up with a tickle in his nose.

It was a very small tickle. A tiny, wriggly, feathery tickle.

"Hmm," said Father Christmas. "That's funny."

He sat up in bed. He reached for his slippers. And then...

"Ah... ah... AAAH-CHOO!"

Whoosh! Both slippers flew across the bedroom and landed on top of the wardrobe.

Breakfast

Father Christmas went downstairs in his socks. Pip the elf was already in the kitchen, making porridge.

"Good morning, Father Christmas," said Pip. "You sound a bit croaky."

"I'm perfectly fine," said Father Christmas, in a voice like a squeaky door. "Just a little... ah... ah... AAAH-CHOO!"

Whoosh! The porridge jumped out of the bowl and landed on the ceiling. Splat.

Pip looked up. The porridge looked down.

"Father Christmas," said Pip, "I think you have a cold."

In the workshop

"Nonsense," sniffed Father Christmas. "There's far too much to do."

He walked into the workshop. The elves were busy painting little wooden trains and sewing soft teddy bears.

"Good morning, everyone," said Father Christmas. "Ah... ah..."

The elves all looked up.

"Ah... AAAH-CHOO!"

Whoosh! Every piece of paper in the workshop flew up into the air. The lists, the drawings, the plans for the trains. They floated down like snow, all over the elves.

One elf had a drawing of a teddy bear on his head. Another had a list stuck to her nose.

The elves giggled. Father Christmas sniffed.

"Oh dear," he said. "Perhaps I do have a cold after all."

The elves take care

"Right," said Pip. "Back to bed, Father Christmas."

The elves sprang into action.

One elf fetched a hot water bottle with a woolly cover. One elf brought a big box of tissues. Two elves carried the softest blanket in the North Pole. And Pip made a mug of warm milk with honey.

They tucked Father Christmas into bed. They put a scarf around his neck. Pip climbed onto the wardrobe and fetched the slippers.

"But the workshop," said Father Christmas. "But the reindeer. But the letters."

"We'll take care of everything," said Pip. "You just rest. That is your only job today."

Rest

Father Christmas sipped his warm milk. He closed his eyes. Outside, the snow fell softly. Downstairs, he could hear the elves humming while they worked.

He slept all morning. He slept all afternoon. He only woke up once, for a bowl of soup.

The next morning, Father Christmas woke up and sat up in bed.

No tickle.

He took a deep breath. Nothing flew anywhere.

"Pip!" he called, in his own big, warm voice. "I feel much better!"

Pip came running in, with a fresh bowl of porridge.

"Good," said Pip. "But maybe I'll stand over here, just in case."

And Father Christmas laughed so much that his tummy wobbled. But he did not sneeze. Not even once.