A Christmas Giggle.

I bough myself a small remote control helicopter (because no one else would buy me one – big kid, childish, etc) for Christmas.
Learned to fly it and when the family was in front of a roaring log fire, decided to show off my prowess as a helicopter pilot.
The flight from my study, across the hall, into the sitting room and the hover down to the coffee table in front of the fire was impeccable.
I then hung the model in a hover half a metre above the coffee table, looked down to the remote control to check the trim, looked up, and blinked – my helicopter had vanished.
“That was clever!” admired an uncle. “How did you do it?”
I had no idea where my helicopter was.
“It shot up the chimney,” giggled a grandchild.
MORAL: Don’t fly small helicopters near a roaring fire, the draught sucks them in.
I never saw the helicopter again, but I still had the box. That came in handy to light the next fire!