Animals and Unicorns Ornaments
One might assume Noah had better organizational skills, but judging by this year's collection of glass Christmas ornaments, his animal-matching abilities left something to be desired. The resulting menagerie suggests less "two-by-two" and more "whatever wandered up the gangplank after happy hour."
Take the sloth, for instance, perpetually frozen in glass, eternally reaching for a branch that was presumably crafted in a different factory altogether. Its expression suggests it's still processing the invitation to board the ark, which, given standard sloth response times, means it's just now getting around to the whole Great Flood situation.
Then there's the unicorn, which explains so much about why we don't have unicorns today. While the other animals were lining up in pairs, this glittery fellow was presumably off practicing its rainbow-making skills, ultimately missing the boat entirely. Now it's immortalized in glass, spreading cosmic sparkles across otherwise sensible Christmas trees.
The rubber duck poses an interesting theological question. Being waterproof, did it really need saving from the flood? Yet here it bobs in crystalline splendor, wearing the smug expression of someone who showed up to a pool party already wearing a flotation device.
The chihuahua ornament trembles in permanent anxiety, as chihuahuas are wont to do, looking simultaneously regal and ridiculous in its tiny glass form. And finally, the fish – because apparently someone thought the one creature actually designed for a flood needed sanctuary on a boat.
Together, these delightfully mismatched ornaments transform any Christmas tree into a sort of phantasmagorical zoo, where biblical accuracy takes a backseat to whimsy, and holiday decorating becomes an exercise in celebrating life's beautiful misfits.
Take the sloth, for instance, perpetually frozen in glass, eternally reaching for a branch that was presumably crafted in a different factory altogether. Its expression suggests it's still processing the invitation to board the ark, which, given standard sloth response times, means it's just now getting around to the whole Great Flood situation.
Then there's the unicorn, which explains so much about why we don't have unicorns today. While the other animals were lining up in pairs, this glittery fellow was presumably off practicing its rainbow-making skills, ultimately missing the boat entirely. Now it's immortalized in glass, spreading cosmic sparkles across otherwise sensible Christmas trees.
The rubber duck poses an interesting theological question. Being waterproof, did it really need saving from the flood? Yet here it bobs in crystalline splendor, wearing the smug expression of someone who showed up to a pool party already wearing a flotation device.
The chihuahua ornament trembles in permanent anxiety, as chihuahuas are wont to do, looking simultaneously regal and ridiculous in its tiny glass form. And finally, the fish – because apparently someone thought the one creature actually designed for a flood needed sanctuary on a boat.
Together, these delightfully mismatched ornaments transform any Christmas tree into a sort of phantasmagorical zoo, where biblical accuracy takes a backseat to whimsy, and holiday decorating becomes an exercise in celebrating life's beautiful misfits.
Bye bye old Christmas balls
Welcome to 2024's collection of glass ornaments that would make Grandmother clutch her pearls before reaching for the sherry. These aren't the kinds of decorations that inspire quiet contemplation of silent nights. No, these are the ornaments that crash the party wearing leopard print and bring questionable jello shots.