Ok, mine is funny in retrospect
When I was 5 we lived in Maine and it was the week before Christmas. We had to drive from the naval base my dad was stationed at to a town 20 miles away to get groceries or go to a store bigger than a 7-11 because it was a very small base. It was snowing, as it does in Maine in December and I had been a complete asshole that day which made my mom (then a few months pregnant with my little brother) extremely pissed off. We stopped at a McDonalds on the way home and I had melted down because we were using the drive thru while I wanted to go and play on the snowed out playground they had. My mother, not being a fucking idiot that would let a 5 year old go play in a cheapass McDonalds' playground that was frozen over, gave me a pretty hard "no" and I started screaming and crying. It was the early 80s and under these circumstances she normally would have just pulled over and beat my ass for behaving so poorly, but instead due to the weather, she chose to just get the food and keep driving home.
As we pull on to the highway leaving town, a truck is driving in the opposite direction with a fresh killed caribou (known in Europe and most Christmas songs as a Reindeer) tied on the hood of said truck. It has blood all over its face giving it a bright red nose. My mother points to it so I can see it and says "Well they got Rudolph, guess there's not gonna be any Christmas this year" in the most matter of fact tone and drove home. I'm crying my eyes out the entire 20 minute drive and when we get home, my mom TAKES DOWN ALL THE CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS and puts them in the attic. My dad comes home about an hour later and sees me sitting where the tree had been coughing from heavy sobbing, completely out of tears. He asks me what the hell happened and I try to say something before breaking down in dry tears bellowing "RUDOLPH IS DEAD AND WE DON'T GET ANY CHRISTMAS!"
My dad asks my mom what the fuck is going on and she starts to laugh so hard she can't talk, when she finally gets a break from it she explains what she did and my dad starts yelling "What the hell is your problem!?" while going in to the attic and single handedly pulling down all the decorations and putting them back up, all while in his Class A's as he tells me that Rudolph is fine and we're going to have a Christmas.
I can remember exactly how upset I was that day, the way it felt to cry even though I was out of tears, how my stomach hurt from sobbing so hard
And the entire thing still makes me chuckle. I need to drop by the house today after I pick up my kid from school and hug my folks
