A Christmas tree should do one job. Stand there. Look festive. Accept baubles without complaint. Hold the angel upright. Provide a pleasant backdrop for presents. This one has other plans.

Dad brings home a Norwegian spruce from Bob's Festive Forest, wrestles it through the front door with the kind of determination that only happens in December, and sets it up in the living room with a satisfied nod. Job done. Tree acquired. Christmas officially beginning.

Then the tree starts leaning. Not a tiny wobble either. Proper angles. The sort of lean that makes baubles roll off like they are evacuating a sinking ship. The angel makes a dramatic dive for freedom and has to be rescued from behind the sofa. Dad stares at the tree. The tree leans harder, as if making a point.

Dad tries everything he can think of. Books wedged underneath. Rope tied to the curtain rail. Furniture rearranged to provide structural support. Industrial strength solutions that feel wildly over engineered for a tree. He talks to it sternly, as if the tree might respond to a firm tone and a disappointed expression. Nothing works. It keeps leaning left, with purpose, like it is following secret instructions that nobody else can see.

Sophie thinks the whole thing is hilarious. Until she hears it. Tap tap tap. The tiniest drilling sound. Coming from inside the branches.

And that is when this stops being a mildly annoying Christmas problem and becomes a full blown festive mystery. Because the tree is not empty. Something is living in there. Something small. Something busy. Something that has very clear opinions about balance, architecture, and what a Christmas tree should really be used for when you think about it properly.

What follows is a wonderfully silly investigation involving torches, whispered theories, careful branch parting, and the discovery that sometimes the thing ruining your Christmas traditions is actually making them far more interesting. There are tiny hammering sounds. There are woodchips appearing in suspicious places. There is the dawning realisation that this tree came with passengers, and those passengers have been working on a project.

This is a cosy Christmas story for children who love funny surprises, tiny mysterious creatures with big plans, and the kind of household chaos that starts with tinsel and ends with everyone crowding round the tree like it is the most exciting thing in the world. It is also for grown ups who have ever thought, why is this simple tradition suddenly taking my entire evening and turning into an engineering challenge.

Perfect for a Christmas countdown listen when you want audio stories for children that feel seasonal and silly, a school run that needs cheering up, or a calming bedtime story that still has enough mystery and giggles to keep everyone engaged. The laughs build as the tree gets wobblier and the mystery deepens, then it lands warm and settled, which is exactly what tired parents want at the end of the day.

If you are searching for funny bedtime stories for kids with Christmas magic, wholesome humour, and a kids storytelling podcast episode that makes family listening feel like a treat, this leaning tree adventure is a brilliant choice.

Mr Morton's Barmy Book of Bonkers Bits is audio stories for children told with theatrical warmth, wholesome chaos, and a gentle ending you can trust.

Episode length: approximately 11 minutes
Ages: 4 to 400
Best enjoyed: bedtime, car journeys, after school wind down

If this made your family smile, a quick follow helps other families find this funny kids podcast.