Entertainment

I Found Photos of Me with a Newborn, but I Don’t Remember Ever Being Pregnant

I opened a box of forgotten photos while cleaning the attic and found pictures of me holding a tiny newborn, my eyes brimming with love. But I’d never been pregnant, let alone given birth. I decided to investigate, unaware I must face a truth that would shatter me to the core. A few weeks ago, I was cleaning the attic when I pulled an old box from the shelf. It was labeled “Photos – Keep” in my handwriting, though I had no memory of marking it. Dust motes danced in the bright light as I nervously opened the box. An old box on the floor | Source: MidjourneyInside, memories spilled out in glossy 4×6 prints: my college graduation with Mom and Dad beaming beside me, our wedding day with Daniel spinning me around the dance floor, and countless summer barbecues at the lake house. Then, everything STOPPED.There I was, in a hospital bed, cradling a newborn baby. My hair was plastered to my forehead with sweat, dark circles under my eyes, but my expression… I was gazing at that tiny bundle with such raw, pure love that it took my breath away. A person holding a newborn baby | Source: UnsplashMore photos followed — me holding the baby against my chest, touching its impossibly small fingers, crying as I looked into its face. In another, I was feeding the baby, my finger trapped in its tiny fist.But that was impossible. I’d never had a baby. Never been pregnant. NEVER. Then how was this possible?I sank to the attic floor, surrounded by the scattered photos. My hands shook as I examined each one closely, searching for signs of manipulation or editing. But they were real… the paper was aged and the corners slightly worn. A shocked woman | Source: MidjourneyIn one picture, a distinctive mustard-yellow chair sat in the corner of the hospital room, and the curtains had an odd geometric pattern I recognized. It was St. Mary’s Hospital, the same hospital where we’d visited my aunt after her hip surgery last year.Daniel was at work, and I was grateful for the solitude as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. These photos showed a moment that should have been the most significant part of my life. But I remembered nothing. Not a single second. A mustard-yellow chair in a room | Source: MidjourneyMy hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I gathered the photos and grabbed my car keys as soon as Daniel left for work the following morning. I didn’t ask him anything as I wanted to find out about this mysterious baby on my own.The hospital parking lot was nearly empty at 11 a.m. on that pleasant Tuesday. I sat in my car for five minutes, clutching the photos to my chest and trying to gather the courage to go inside. A young mother walked past pushing a stroller, and my chest tightened with an emotion I couldn’t name.A woman pushing a baby stroller | Source: PexelsThe reception area smelled of antiseptic and floor cleaner. A young woman with bright blue scrubs and a butterfly-shaped name tag looked up as I approached.”Hi,” I said. “I need to access some old records of mine.””Look at this,” I then added, showing her the pictures. “Whose baby is this? Why am I holding it? I don’t remember anything. What’s happening?”Without answering, she typed something on her phone and then frowned at her screen. Her fingers paused over the keypad. “One moment, please!” she said, disappearing into a back office, whispering urgently to someone.A hospital staff in scrubs | Source: PexelsAn older nurse emerged, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, her name tag reading “Nancy, Head Nurse.” Her eyes held a mix of concern and recognition that made my stomach twist.”Miss, we do have records for you here, but we’ll need to contact your husband before we can discuss them.”My stomach dropped. “What? Why?””Hospital policy, in cases like this. Please, let me call him now.”A hospital staff holding documents | Source: Pexels”No, these are my medical records. I have a right to know—”But Nancy was already picking up the phone, her eyes never leaving my face. She dialed, and I heard the ring through the receiver.”Sir? This is Nancy from St. Mary’s Hospital. Yes… your wife Angela is here requesting access to some medical records. Yes… I see… Could you come down right away? Yes, it’s about that… Thank you.”A nurse holding a smartphone | Source: PexelsMy hands clenched into fists. “You know my husband? You have his number?””He’ll be here in 20 minutes. Would you like some water while you wait?”I sank into a plastic chair, the photos clutched to my chest.Every minute that ticked by on the waiting room clock felt like an eternity. When Daniel finally arrived, still in his work clothes, his face was ashen. He’d clearly driven here at full speed.A startled man in a hospital | Source: Midjourney”What’s going on, Dan? Why do they have your number? Why won’t they talk to me without you?”He turned to Nancy. “Is Dr. Peters available?”The doctor’s office was small, with certificates covering one wall and a small window overlooking the parking lot. Dr. Peters was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and worry lines around her mouth. She folded her hands on her desk as we sat down.”Tell her,” Dr. Peters said. “Your wife deserves to know everything.”My heart hammered against my ribs. “Know what? What’s going on?”A doctor in her office | Source: PexelsDaniel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Six years ago, my sister Fiona came to us with a request. Do you remember how long she and Jack had been trying to have a baby?””Your sister? What does she have to do with this?””The fertility treatments weren’t working. The IVF failed three times,” he swallowed hard. “She asked if you would consider being her surrogate. And you said… yes.”The world tilted sideways. “No. That’s not… I would remember that. A pregnancy? Being a surrogate? No, I wouldn’t—”A shocked woman looking up | Source: Midjourney”You were so determined to help her, Angel. You said it was the greatest gift you could give your sister-in-law. The pregnancy went perfectly. You were glowing and so happy to be helping them. But when the baby was was born—”Dr. Peters spoke up. “You experienced a severe psychological break after delivery, Angela. The maternal hormones and bonding process were stronger than anyone anticipated. You refused to let go of the baby. When they tried to take him to Fiona, you became hysterical.”I pressed my hands against my temples. “Stop. Please stop.”Grayscale shot of a newborn baby | Source: Unsplash”Your mind protected itself,” Dr. Peters explained gently. “It’s called dissociative amnesia. Your psyche built a wall around the memories to shield you from the trauma of the separation. In cases of severe emotional distress, the mind can—””You’re telling me I forgot an entire pregnancy? A whole baby? That’s not possible! I would know. My body would know. My heart would know.””Angel,” Daniel reached for my hand. But I jerked away so violently my chair scraped against the floor.Portrait of a distressed man | Source: Midjourney”Don’t touch me! You knew? All this time, you knew? Every time we talked about maybe having kids someday, every time we walked past a baby store… you knew I had carried a child? Given birth? And given him away like he was some freaking toy?””Where is he?” I demanded, my throat raw and eyes red-rimmed from crying.”Fiona moved to the countryside shortly after. The doctors thought the distance would help you recover.”A teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash”So everyone just decided?” I laughed. “Everyone just chose to let me forget my own—” I couldn’t say the word. Couldn’t acknowledge what I’d lost. “Six years? Six birthdays, first steps, first words?””We thought we were protecting you.””By lying? By watching me live in ignorance? Did you all get together and plan this? Have meetings about how to keep me in the dark?””By letting you heal,” Dr. Peters interjected softly. “The mind can only handle so much pain, Angela. Your psyche chose this path for a reason.”A frustrated woman | Source: PexelsI dashed out of the hospital as fast as my legs could carry me. Daniel caught up, ushering me into the car. I was a total mess. My fragile heart was shattered beyond repair. That night, I slept in our guest room, surrounded by the photos. I studied each one until my eyes burned, trying to force my mind to remember. The way I touched his tiny face. The tears on my cheeks. The love in my eyes. I pressed my hand against my stomach, trying to imagine him there, growing, moving, being part of me. But nothing came back. Nothing.A sad woman sitting on the bed | Source: Pexels”Can we see him?” I asked Daniel the next day.”We should probably ask Fiona first,” he said, his voice uncertain. “But if you’re sure, I think she’ll be okay with it.”It took a week to convince Fiona to let us visit. Seven days of negotiations through Daniel, because I couldn’t bear to speak to her directly. Not yet. How do you talk to someone who has your child? Who took your child? After countless phone calls and messages, Fiona finally agreed. A man talking on the phone | Source: PexelsThe drive to the countryside was endless. I watched the landscape change through the window, each mile bringing me closer to a truth I wasn’t sure I could face. Fields gave way to forests, forests to suburbs. All the while, my mind spun with questions. Would he look like me? Would some part of him recognize me? Would I feel anything at all? Would he come running to me?Aerial view of a car on the road | Source: UnsplashFiona’s house was everything I’d imagined during those sleepless nights. Perfect lawn, flowers in window boxes, a red bicycle leaning against the porch, and a tire swing. Wind chimes tinkled softly and the delicious smell of something cooking wafted in the air. My legs shook so badly I could barely walk to the door.Fiona stood there, just as I remembered her from the family pictures. But her eyes were cautious, teary, and guarded, like a watchful mother’s.”Angela,” she said softly. “Come in.”A teary-eyed woman looking at someone | Source: PexelsMy gaze swept across the room, searching for the little one who held the key to my forgotten past.And there he was, peeking around the corner. Dark curls like mine and those familiar eyes. My heart squeezed so tight I couldn’t breathe. My son! My baby! I longed to scream, to run to him, to hold him tight. But I stood rooted to the spot, numb with heartache.”Tommy,” Fiona called, “come meet your Aunt Angela.”A little boy wearing a hat | Source: UnsplashHe approached shyly, a toy dinosaur clutched in one hand. “Hello, Aunt Angela.””Hello, Tommy!” I said, his name feeling like a prayer on my tongue.He studied me with those big, brown eyes, head tilted slightly. “Want to see my room? I have a bunk bed! And a T-Rex that roars when you push its belly.””I’d love that, sweetie.”A woman with her eyes downcast | Source: MidjourneyAs he led me upstairs, chattering about his dinosaur collection and his best friend Jake and how he could ride his bike without training wheels now, I felt it. Not a memory exactly, but an echo. A ghost of what we might have been. Of all the moments I should have had.Later that night, in our hotel room, I took out the photos one last time. The woman in them wasn’t a stranger anymore. I understood her joy, her pain, and her sacrifice even if I couldn’t remember feeling them myself. A woman holding a newborn baby | Source: UnsplashI touched the image of the baby, my finger tracing his tiny photostatic features.”You okay?” Daniel asked from the doorway.”No. But I think I will be.”I slipped the photos back into an envelope. Some memories might stay lost and buried under years of protective fog. But now I had something more precious than memories: I had truth. And somehow, in that truth, I found the peace I didn’t know I’d been missing.It would take time to fully come to terms with my truth, but this was a step in the right direction.A woman holding an envelope | Source: PexelsHere’s another story: A little orphaned boy was crying in the church, pleading with God to send his mother to take him. Then he heard a voice that answered from behind, “I’ll take you.”This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Entertainment

I Found an Old Ragged Map with a Cross on It in the House I Recently Started to Rent

When Darcy lifted a loose floorboard in the house she’d recently rented, she expected dust. Instead, she found a yellowed map with a red X, coordinates, and secrets buried deep in the woods nearby. What she didn’t expect? To uncover a treasure far more precious than gold. Moving into this quiet house in our new town seemed perfect for our little family. The kids loved their rooms, Nicholas had his garage workspace, and I finally had my dream kitchen. Everything felt right… until the day I made a chilling discovery beneath the floorboards that changed everything.A picturesque house | Source: Midjourney”Mom, I want the blue room!” Emma shouted, her footsteps thundering up the stairs of our new rental. Her pigtails bounced with each step, the ribbon trailing behind her like a victory flag.”Not fair! I saw it first!” her brother Jake’s voice echoed behind her. I exchanged a weary smile with Nicholas as we lugged boxes through the front door. After six exhausting months of searching, we’d finally found a place that checked all our boxes with its affordable rent, good school district, and reasonable commute times for both of us.A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney”Remember when we only had to worry about where to put the coffee maker?” Nicholas whispered, setting down a box labeled ‘Kitchen’. His shoulders slumped from the weight of moving day.”Those were simpler times,” I laughed, then called upstairs, “Both rooms are exactly the same size! And neither of you is getting any room until you help with these boxes!”The house’s owner, Rupert, stood awkwardly in the doorway, keys dangling from his fingers. He couldn’t have been more than 27, with dark circles under anxious eyes that darted around the space as if seeing ghosts.An anxious man | Source: Midjourney”The water heater’s new,” he blurted out, shifting from foot to foot. “And the furnace was serviced last month. Everything’s in working order.” He paused, swallowing hard. “You’re actually our first tenants since… well, you’re our first tenants. Good luck with your stay. I hope you like it.”He practically thrust the keys into my hands and hurried down the front walk, nearly tripping over a garden hose in his haste to leave.”Well, that was weird,” I muttered, watching Rupert’s retreating figure. “Did he seem off to you?”Silhouette of a young man walking away | Source: Midjourney”He’s probably just anxious about renting out his dad’s place,” Nicholas said, remembering the brief mention during our walkthrough that Rupert had inherited the house six months ago after his father’s passing. “It can’t be easy, watching strangers move into your childhood home.””Still, something feels—” I trailed off as Emma and Jake thundered back downstairs.”Mom! Jake put his stupid dinosaur poster on MY wall!””It’s MY wall now! I claimed it!””Let’s table the mysterious landlord discussion for now,” I sighed. “Survival mode activated.”A cheerful woman turning around | Source: MidjourneyTwo weeks later, I was home alone organizing the living room when I heard a distinct creak of a loose floorboard near the bay window. The house was eerily quiet with the kids at school and Nicholas at work. The sound seemed to echo in the emptiness.I grabbed a screwdriver from Nicholas’s toolbox and knelt to investigate. The honey-colored wood was worn in that spot, slightly darker than the surrounding boards. When I pressed down, it gave a familiar groan.”Let’s see what you’re hiding in there other than just dust!” I murmured, working the screwdriver into the seam.A woman using a screwdriver to open a floorboard | Source: MidjourneyThe board lifted easily, revealing something that made my breath catch: a plastic bag, deliberately tucked into the space below. Not forgotten or lost. It was seemingly hidden. With trembling fingers, I pulled it out and unwrapped what appeared to be an old, ragged map.The paper was yellowed but well-preserved, covered in careful ink lines showing detailed drawings of the forest that bordered our backyard. In the center, marked with a bold red X, was a spot deep among the trees. The margins were filled with tiny blurry coordinates.A woman holding a ragged map | Source: MidjourneyThat evening, I spread the map out on the kitchen table after the kids were in bed.”Look what I found under the floorboards today,” I said as Nicholas walked in from the garage. “It was wrapped up and hidden.”He barely glanced up from his phone. “Probably just some kid’s treasure map.””In a plastic bag? Under the floorboards?” I traced the careful lines with my finger. “This seemingly took time and effort. Someone wanted this preserved. Should I go and check out the spot on the map?”A confused woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney”Darcy, honey, not everything’s a mystery waiting to be solved. Sometimes a map is just a map.” Nicholas grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Just toss it in the trash.””But don’t you think we should tell Rupert? The way he acted when we moved in… maybe this means something. Maybe it’s his father’s.””Or maybe you’ve been reading too many mystery novels.” He kissed the top of my head. “Not everything has some deep, hidden meaning. Let’s get some sleep now.”I turned the paper over in my hands, studying the precise markings. “Something about this feels important. And what’s the harm in asking?” I thought as I drifted off to sleep in our room.A suspicious woman holding an old paper | Source: MidjourneyThe next morning, after dropping the kids at school, I called Rupert.”Hello?” His voice was groggy, like he’d just woken up.”Hi, Rupert? This is Darcy, from the house on Silver Oak Street? I found something I think you should know about.””Oh?” He sounded more alert now. “Is something broken?”An anxious woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney”No, nothing like that. I found something in the house,” I said, fingers tracing the map’s edges. “Under one of the floorboards. It’s a map with coordinates to the forest near the—””Jesus, this can’t be!” he gasped. “Does it have a red X? And numbers in the margins?””OH MY GOD! THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME! I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Please don’t go to the forest without me!”The phone clicked dead before I could respond. I stared at the map, my heart pounding. What had I stumbled into?A startled man talking on the phone | Source: MidjourneyTrue to his word, Rupert’s car screeched into our driveway exactly 10 minutes later. His hair was uncombed, shirt buttoned wrong, like he’d dressed in a panic. His hands shook as I handed him the map.”I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his eyes drinking in every detail. “Dad always said there were more—”He looked up, tears glistening in his eyes. “I’ll tell you. Will you come with me? To find it? I don’t want to do this alone. Not this one.”An anxious woman standing outside the house | Source: MidjourneyThe forest was cool and dim as we followed the map’s guidance. Beams of sunlight filtered through the canopy, creating shifting patterns on the ground. Armed with a shovel, Rupert checked and rechecked our position, muttering coordinates under his breath.We reached a clearing that matched the map’s markings. Moss-covered stones formed a rough circle, exactly as drawn on the paper. Rupert stabbed the shovel into the earth with sudden force. I touched his arm gently.”We can take a break if you need.””No.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “No, I need to do this. Would you help me dig?”A man using a shovel in the woods | Source: MidjourneyWe took turns with the shovel, the only sounds our breathing and the metal striking earth. Finally, there was a solid thunk.Together, we brushed away dirt to reveal a small iron chest, its brass fittings green with age.Rupert’s hands trembled so badly he could barely lift the lid. Inside, nestled in faded velvet, lay a single gold coin.”Oh my god,” he breathed. “It’s the 1856 Flying Eagle Cent.” His voice broke. “Dad spent years looking for one. He must have finally found it.””A buried gold coin?” I gasped.”It’s more than that!” Rupert replied, tears brimming in his eyes.A coin in an iron chest | Source: Midjourney”My dad was a collector,” he explained as we walked, ducking under a low-hanging branch. “Rare coins were his passion. But more than that, he loved creating treasure hunts for me when I was little. He’d spend hours drawing these incredible maps, hiding coins throughout the property.””That must have been amazing,” I said, stepping over a fallen log.”It was magical.” His voice softened with memory. “Every weekend was a new adventure. He’d wake me up early, hand me a fresh map, and off we’d go. Sometimes we’d spend all day searching.””The last hunt he planned…” His voice caught. “It was right before his diagnosis. He told me there were more maps hidden in the house, and more treasures to find. But then everything happened so fast with the cancer. Six weeks from diagnosis to…”An emotional man in the woods | Source: MidjourneyTears streamed down his face as he held the coin to the light. “This was his white whale. He used to tell me stories about it when I was little, said someday we’d find one together. He’d get so excited just talking about it.”I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling it shake beneath my palm.”Every coin show, every auction, we’d look,” he continued. “Never found one in good condition we could afford. And I know why he was so calm at the end. He’d found it. He made one last treasure hunt.””He found a way to share it with you after all,” I said.A sad woman in the woods | Source: MidjourneyRupert clutched the coin to his chest. “You have no idea what this means to me. This house… I’ve been thinking about selling it. It hurts too much, being there without him. Every room holds memories, you know? But now…” He wiped his eyes with his hand. “Now I know he’s still here, still leaving me treasures to find. Still my dad.”We walked back in comfortable silence, the coin secure in Rupert’s pocket. At the edge of the forest, he turned to me.”I want to do something to thank you,” he said. “The next six months of rent… consider them covered.”A man smiling | Source: Midjourney”Please.” His eyes were bright but determined. “Dad would have wanted this. You helped bring back a piece of him today. Let me do this.”Looking at the peace in his eyes and the way his shoulders had finally relaxed, I couldn’t say no.That evening, as I watched Emma and Jake play in the backyard, their shouts of laughter carrying across the lawn, I thought about Rupert’s father and his hidden treasures. Some might say we’d found just an old coin that day, but I knew better. We’d uncovered something far more precious: a father’s love, preserved in paper and ink, waiting patiently beneath the floorboards to be discovered.A smiling woman standing on the porch | Source: MidjourneyHere’s another story: The hidden Christmas gift I found in my husband’s closet wasn’t meant for me. It was for his mistress. My heart shattered but I had no time for tears. I sought revenge, one they would never forget. This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Entertainment

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: MidjourneyMike 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”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: MidjourneyMike 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: MidjourneyEleanor 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: MidjourneyEleanor 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”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: MidjourneySanta 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.Santa Claus holding a broom | Source: MidjourneySanta 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: MidjourneyTommy 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: MidjourneyJack (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: MidjourneyLinda 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: MidjourneyLinda’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”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: MidjourneyAt 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”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”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: MidjourneyThree 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: MidjourneyTheir 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: MidjourneyKaren 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: MidjourneySophie 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: MidjourneyUncle 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: MidjourneyAnd 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

Entertainment

Daughter Shamed Her Mom for Being Poor, So I Decided to Teach Her a Life Lesson

When I saw a new employee, Brooklyn, berating a cleaning lady in the office lobby, I was disturbed, but what I discovered later shook me to the core. That encounter led me to plan something around the company’s charity ball that Brooklyn would never forget.You can call Ilan. I’m 42, a senior executive at a very well-known company, but I won’t mention its name. I’ve been there for more than 15 years, and that’s long enough to know how to read people in the corporate world. A businessman | Source: MidjourneyStill, what happened last week was unexpected. I was walking through the lobby of our office building, having just returned from an important meeting at another place, when I saw our new employee. She’d been here just a month.I remembered her name, Brooklyn, because she was eager and ambitious. I wasn’t her direct boss, but she still managed to introduce herself to me. She also said she was open to more opportunities, overtime, and to learn about new projects. Don’t get me wrong. That’s a good attitude in this business, but I got the sense that she was too much. Something about her demeanor didn’t sit quite right with me. I didn’t mean inappropriately or like she was coming on to me, but I still decided to stir clear as much as possible.A smiling businesswoman | Source: MidjourneyYet, I heard her voice, and it was nothing like how she’d talk to me. “What the heck have you done?! I’ll make sure you’re fired from here,” Brooklyn snapped at a nice cleaning lady with the sharpest, most cutting voice.The older woman stood there in her uniform, clutching her supplies, while her head bowed low as she nodded. She looked like she wanted to disappear.Despite my instinct to stay out of other people’s business, I couldn’t ignore that helplessness. A businessman thinking | Source: MidjourneyI stepped closer and asked calmly, “What’s going on here?”Brooklyn froze and her face lost all color as she turned to me. “Oh, nothing, just a small mistake, Mr. Aviv,” she stammered, plastering on a fake smile. “We settled it, don’t worry.”Before I could press her further, she used her hands and practically forced me toward the elevators. “Mr. Aviv, let me show you the draft I worked on,” she said in a syrupy tone that reminded me of nails on a chalkboard.A smiling businesswoman | Source: MidjourneyI wasn’t appeased. I didn’t like when others were treated disrespectfully, and while this employee babbled in the elevator, I couldn’t shake the image of the cleaning lady standing there, shoulders hunched, trying to hold herself together.But it wasn’t like I could do anything about it, so I tried to take it off my mind while Brooklyn talked my ear off on the ride up. As soon as the elevator opened to the office, I walked out and practically ran from her. She huffed behind me, and I rolled my eyes.A businessman in front of an elevator | Source: MidjourneyLater that day, as I was heading home, I saw the cleaning lady again. She was leaving the building, and although she wasn’t as hunched as earlier, her posture was still weary. Her eyes were also red and puffy like she’d been crying. Once again, I should’ve minded my business, but I now felt invested.”Excuse me, ma’am,” I said gently as I approached her. “Can I ask if everything’s alright?”A businessman with a warm smile | Source: MidjourneyShe turned to me, startled, and quickly wiped her face with trembling fingers. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she said softly, but the way her voice cracked told a different story.”I was in the lobby earlier,” I explained. “I saw what happened. Are you sure everything is alright?”She hesitated, her eyes darting around as if she didn’t know whether to trust me. Then, finally, she let out a shaky breath. “Yes, sir. That woman, Brooklyn, is my daughter,” she admitted, nodding slowly. An older woman in a janitor's uniform | Source: Midjourney An older woman in a janitor’s uniform | Source: MidjourneyI blinked, sure I’d misheard. “Wait. Really?”She nodded and sighed. “Yes. I’ve been working here for three years now, mostly nights. When she graduated, I recommended she apply here. Someone in HR owed me a favor. She has always been a little… aggressive.”I barked a laugh and coughed to compose myself. The woman smiled through her tears for a second, but her face quickly went back to morose.”But now she’s ashamed of me,” she continued. “She doesn’t want anyone to know I’m her mother. She says it’ll ruin her reputation here, and while trying to talk to her earlier, I accidentally spilled something on the floor. That only made her angrier.”A female janitor looking sad | Source: MidjourneyMy stomach churned. Here was a woman who had likely worked herself to the bone, who had probably done everything she could to give her daughter a better life and hell, even helped her daughter find this job, only to be treated like this. My family didn’t have much when I was growing up either, but we valued each other. Hearing this made me feel a sadness I couldn’t quite put into words.”I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” I said tightly. “You don’t deserve that kind of treatment, especially not from your own daughter.”A businessman looking worried | Source: MidjourneyShe gave me a faint smile, more out of politeness than anything else, and started to walk away. I stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, feeling like I needed to do something. Her daughter needed a reality check.The next morning, I couldn’t focus. My mind kept going back to that conversation. Then, during lunch, I overheard Brooklyn in the break room. A businessman peeking into a room | Source: MidjourneyShe was gushing about the company’s annual charity ball, talking about how it was “the perfect opportunity to network with the right people.” That’s when an idea struck me. If Brooklyn was so obsessed with appearances, maybe it was time to remind her what really mattered.I pulled a few strings to set my plan into motion. First, I discreetly removed Brooklyn’s name from the guestlist, so she would only find out about it at the event. A list with names | Source: MidjourneyThen, I reached out to her mother. She was hesitant at first, but I explained what I had in mind.”This isn’t about embarrassing her,” I assured her. “It’s about showing her what’s important. You deserve this night. Trust me.”She eventually agreed, though I could tell she was nervous. To make sure she felt comfortable and that my plan went perfectly, I arranged for her to visit a salon and pick out a beautiful dress. An elegant woman | Source: MidjourneyWhen I picked her up the evening of the ball, she looked stunning. Her hair was styled elegantly, and her dress, simple but tasteful, was perfect for the evening. “I’m not sure about this,” she admitted as we drove to the venue. “I don’t belong in places like this.””You belong here just as much as anyone else. After all, you work for the company,” I quipped. The car arrived right at the front, and it looked like a red carpet Hollywood event. We always went all out for these things because our clients respected luxury and taste over other things. People gathered outside a venue | Source: MidjourneyAs we stepped out, several heads turned as I expected. Brooklyn’s mother hesitated, but I gave her a reassuring nod and she linked her hand to my arm.Then we spotted Brooklyn. The moment she saw us, her smile vanished. Her jaw dropped, and she nearly tripped in her heels as she stormed over.”What is this?” she hissed and looked around worried. “Mom! Why are you here?”Brooklyn’s mother looked down, ashamed again, but I spoke before Brooklyn could say more. An elegant woman looking sad | Source: Midjourney”I invited your mother,” I answered with a big smile.”Oh, and I used your spot for it. She deserves to be here more than you.”Brooklyn’s face turned red. “What? You can’t do that. I worked hard to be here. I need this event for MY CAREER! She doesn’t!” she yelled and pointed her hand rudely at her mother.”Hey! Stop it. Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your boss or well, your boss’s boss,” I said firmly, “and I think your behavior here today and towards your mother is unacceptable. You can’t treat people like that, especially not the woman who raised you and helped you get this job. This company values respect, and that includes respect for your family.”A man looking angry | Source: MidjourneyHer mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “You don’t understand,” she finally spat. “It’s been so hard to be a janitor’s daughter and I -“”Enough,” I interrupted going fully cold. “I was a farmer’s and a candy seller’s son, and thanks to my parents, I succeeded. I honored them until they died. I don’t think our company should keep employing someone who doesn’t understand the value of their parents’ sacrifice.”Brooklyn’s face got even redder and it looked like she was holding back more insults for her own mother. An elegant woman looking angry | Source: MidjourneySo I just squeezed the older woman’s arm tightly and ushered us forward. “If you’ll excuse us,” I said as we passed Brooklyn. “Enjoy the sidewalk.”Inside the venue, Brooklyn’s mother, who finally asked me to call her Esther, relaxed after a while. Even more, she came out of her shell, mingling with other guests and dancing a little. By the end of the night, she was laughing with a group of people from work, many of whom actually already knew she was the cleaning lady at our building and saw her simply as another employee.An elegant woman smiling at a party | Source: MidjourneyYes, that’s what I wanted from my people. It didn’t matter what title you held. All that mattered was your hard work and values. When I took Esther home, she begged me not to fire her daughter. A mother’s love knew no bounds. But I had a hard conversation with Brooklyn’s direct boss the next day, and let’s just say, she wasn’t anyone’s favorite. Her fate in the company isn’t in my hands, though. But I could do something about a Christmas bonus for the janitorial staff and a slight raise for the kind woman who came with me to the party. Wink, wink.A businessman writing on his desk | Source: MidjourneyHere’s another story: On my 18th birthday, my mom handed me a broom, mocking my dream of becoming an actress by saying I’d end up cleaning streets. But just weeks later, life took an unexpected turn when I found her mopping floors at the local grocery store, revealing a past she had tried to bury.This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.