It was a particularly bad year for Santa and before he knew it, Christmas Eve had arrived and he wasn't ready.
The elves were on strike.
The reindeer were unruly and during a test run had crashed the sleigh.
No one was cleaning the stables and the smell was horrible.
Rudolph's nose wouldn't light because he had a cold.
Mrs. Clause, having burned batches of cookies, was refusing to bake any more until the oven was fixed; and, to top it off she was endlessly nagging poor Santa.
It was about the time that Santa was at the end of his patience with the Christmas Angel descended from the heavens and said:
"Santa, I have your Christmas tree. Where should I stick it?"