My Family Does A Funny Christmas Card Every Year, And Here Are 17 Of The Best

The arrival of December brings with it a familiar ritual in households across the country: the dreaded, often awkward, sometimes perfectly cheesy annual family Christmas card photo. For most, it’s a hurried snapshot in front of a tree, a forced smile after a dozen retakes, a fleeting moment of festive obligation before the envelope is sealed and sent. But for one particular family, whose story has warmed hearts and sparked laughter online, this ritual is not a chore but the highlight of their year, a dedicated campaign of carefully orchestrated chaos and love. Their tradition, which began humbly in 2007, has evolved into a spectacular archive of intentional hilarity and creative bonding, a testament to the pure, unadulterated joy of shared Christmas family fun. This isn’t about perfect hair or matching sweaters; it’s about commitment to a bit, the glue of inside jokes, and the understanding that the best memories are often the ones you stage for posterity. The essence of their project isn’t found in a store-bought backdrop but in the collaborative spirit that turns a simple photo into an annual event eagerly anticipated by the whole clan and, now, by a growing audience of admirers who have seen their funny Christmas card chronicles.

It all started, as the best family traditions often do, with a spark of spontaneous rebellion against the mundane. The year was 2007, and digital cameras were becoming household staples, while the pressure for picture-perfect holiday greetings was firmly entrenched. The mother of the family, let’s call her Jane for the sake of the story’s flow, was sorting through a pile of impeccably boring cards from friends and relatives beautiful portraits of smiling faces against neutral backgrounds. She turned to her husband and their two young kids and posed a simple, revolutionary question: “What if ours was actually funny?” Not just a cute-funny with a silly hat, but a committed, full-concept funny. The idea was met with immediate, giddy enthusiasm. That first attempt was low-budget and homemade, a parody of a classic Norman Rockwell-esque scene gone subtly wrong. The kids, then quite young, were decked out in their Sunday best but caught in mid-argument over a toy, while the parents looked on with exaggerated, serene ignorance. The holiday humor was gentle but unmistakable, and the reaction from recipients was instant and overwhelmingly positive. People didn’t just glance at it and toss it on the mantle; they called to laugh about it. A tradition was born not from a desire for viral fame, which didn’t truly exist in that form yet, but from a shared family desire to connect and bring genuine surprise and delight to their loved ones during the festive season.

What began as a one-off joke quickly solidified into a non-negotiable item on the family’s annual calendar. By the following November, discussions would start. “What’s the card idea this year?” became a standard dinner table conversation. The process itself became a core part of the family holiday tradition, often more meaningful than the photo shoot day. Brainstorming sessions involved sketchpads, terrible drawings, and fits of laughter. They drew inspiration from everything: blockbuster movies of the year, classic works of art, iconic historical photographs, and, most often, the quirky dynamics of their own family life. A year when the teenage son was obsessed with a particular video game might lead to a pixelated, 8-bit themed card. A summer spent watching old musicals could inspire a full-scale, glamorous Broadway parody. The key was that everyone had a voice; even the youngest child’s absurd suggestion was considered, and often, those were the seeds of the best ideas. This collaborative creativity is the hidden engine of their Christmas family fun, fostering a sense of ownership and teamwork that extended far beyond a simple photo. It taught the kids about planning, execution, and the joy of committing fully to a creative project with the people you love most.

The execution of these ideas is where the magic and the madness truly converge. This is not a five-minute affair before Sunday dinner. For the more elaborate concepts, planning begins months in advance, involving sourcing specific, often ridiculous props from thrift stores, online auctions, or the depths of the garage. Costume design is taken seriously, with sewing machines humming and face paint being tested for allergic reactions. The location scouting is meticulous the living room might be transformed into a spaceship cockpit one year, while the backyard becomes a Jurassic wilderness the next. The photo shoot day is an event, often stretching over several hours, filled with laughter, inevitable technical difficulties (“The fog machine is setting off the smoke alarm!”), and the kind of silly, unscripted moments that become family lore themselves. The father might be rigged into a makeshift flying harness, the dog might be coerced into a tiny reindeer costume for the seventeenth take, and the teenage daughter, though initially rolling her eyes, will inevitably break character with a genuine smile that makes the final cut perfect. This dedicated effort is what elevates their project from a cute family photo idea to a legitimate, albeit wonderfully bizarre, artistic annual endeavor.

As the children grew from toddlers to teens to young adults, the cards naturally evolved, reflecting their changing personalities and the shifting family dynamics. The early cards from the late 2000s have a charming, homemade, slightly chaotic energy, perfectly capturing the beautiful mess of life with small children. The cards from the teenage years often playfully acknowledge the stereotypes of moody adolescents, with the kids depicted as angsty vampires or eye-rolling zombies amidst overly cheerful parents, a nod to the family bonding that persists even through rolling eyes. The most recent cards, including the stunning 2023 installment, show a family of collaborators, where each member’s adult sense of humor and creative flair shines through in equal measure. One particularly memorable card from the mid-2010s parodied a famous Renaissance painting, with each family member perfectly mimicking the solemn, dramatic poses, but with modern items like a video game controller or a smartphone subtly integrated. Another depicted them as a band of washed-up rockers on a comeback tour, complete with spandex and bad wigs. The progression is a visual timeline of their life together, not through standard portraits, but through the lens of shared comedy and ever-more-ambitious creative Christmas ideas.

The decision to share this private tradition with the wider world was not taken lightly. For years, these cards were a cherished secret, a gift reserved for their inner circle. The laughter and excited phone calls they generated were reward enough. However, as the cards became more elaborate and the digital age made sharing easier, a close friend or a cousin would often post their received card on social media, where it would garner dozens of comments from people outside the family circle asking, “Is this real?” and “Can I see more?” Eventually, the family compiled a selection, from the humble 2007 beginning to the present, and shared them online. The response was instantaneous and overwhelming. The post, titled “My Family Does A Funny Christmas Card Every Year, And Here Are 17 Of The Best,” resonated on a profound level. It wasn’t just about the pictures themselves, though the creativity was widely praised. It was about the story they told: a story of consistent joy, of festive family fun prioritized year after year, of a family that chooses laughter and creativity as its binding glue. In a world often curated for perfection, their embrace of intentional, joyful imperfection and thematic silliness struck a chord.

The public reaction has been a beautiful and unexpected extension of their tradition. Strangers from around the globe have written to say the cards inspired them to start their own silly traditions, to feel less pressure during the holidays, or simply that the images gave them a much-needed belly laugh during a stressful season. The family has been careful to navigate this attention, keeping their core process private and sacred. The online sharing is an afterthought, a bonus round. The true heart of the project remains the closed-door brainstorming, the collaborative construction, and the private joke that they, and they alone, fully understand. This balance is crucial; it keeps the tradition authentic and prevents it from becoming a performance for outsiders. The holiday tradition is first and foremost for them, a sacred space of family bonding and creative expression, and that authenticity is precisely what makes it so compelling to witness from the outside.

Looking at the full collection, from 2007 to 2023, one is struck not just by the escalating production value, but by the consistent thread of love and character that runs through each image. You can see the children growing up, the parents aging gracefully, and the family dog making his loyal appearances in various costumes. You see inside jokes that span decades, with props from a 2012 card making a surprise comeback in a 2020 tableau. The funny Christmas card tradition has become their family’s most tangible heirloom, a more accurate representation of their collective spirit than any formal portrait could ever be. It documents not just their faces, but their sense of humor, their ability to not take themselves too seriously, and their commitment to creating joy together. In an era where family time is often fragmented by screens and schedules, this annual project forces a convergence of energy, imagination, and time that is increasingly rare and precious.

The logistical lessons from their seventeen-year journey are invaluable for anyone feeling inspired. First, start where you are. You don’t need a professional camera or a wardrobe department; their 2007 card was taken with a basic point-and-shoot. The idea is the star. Second, make it a team effort. The fun is in the collaboration, the debate over concepts, and the shared labor of bringing it to life. Third, embrace the flaws. The best cards often feature a moment where the illusion breaks a smirk breaking through a serious pose, a prop failing mid-shoot. Those are the moments of real life and real holiday humor shining through. Fourth, consider the audience. While their audience is now global, they originally crafted these for grandparents, aunts, uncles, and close friends, thinking about what would make them laugh out loud when opening the mail. That personal touch is the foundation of its charm.

Beyond the laughter and the creativity, this tradition serves a deeper, almost psychological purpose for the family. It has created a powerful, positive anchor point in their yearly rhythm. No matter what challenges the year has brought difficult school years, career changes, personal losses the approach of the holiday season brings with it this collaborative, joyful, and silly project. It is a reset button, a way to reconnect not just as parent and child, but as co-conspirators in artful mischief. It reinforces their unique family identity. They are not just the Smiths; they are “the family that does those incredible Christmas cards.” This shared identity, built on Christmas family fun, is a gift they have given themselves, strengthening their bonds in a way that passive traditions like simply exchanging gifts never could. It is an active, participatory celebration of their collective spirit.

As we look toward future Decembers, one can only imagine what this family will conceive next. Will they incorporate new family members, like spouses and grandchildren, into the fray? Will technology allow for even more elaborate illusions? The beauty is that it doesn’t really matter. The specific theme for 2024 or 2030 is less important than the certainty that they will gather, they will brainstorm, they will laugh, and they will create another chapter in their ongoing visual diary. Their tradition stands as a brilliant, glitter-dusted counterargument to the often stressful, commercial, and perfection-obsessed side of the holiday season. It is a reminder that the true spirit of the season lies in connection, in shared laughter, and in the courage to be authentically, wonderfully silly with the people you love.

In the end, the legacy of this family’s hilarious annual project is about much more than seventeen great photos. It’s a masterclass in intentional living and joyful connection. It proves that traditions don’t have to be somber or formal to be meaningful; they can be loud, colorful, and absurd. It demonstrates that the time invested in shared creativity pays dividends in memory and closeness that far outlast the holiday season. Their story encourages all of us to find our own unique flavor of Christmas family fun, to prioritize laughter over perfection, and to build our family identities not just on what we look like, but on what we create together. So this year, as you stress over getting the perfect shot, remember this family’s journey. Perhaps put down the hairbrush, pick up a ridiculous prop, and give yourself permission to create not just a card, but a memory filled with genuine, unstaged joy the very essence of enduring family holiday tradition.

My Family Does A Funny Christmas Card Every Year, And Here Are 17 Of The Best