Nothing strikes fear into the heart of an Australian quite like the words "prawn shortage" uttered in mid December. In 2019, the nation collectively panicked when reports emerged that prawns might be in short supply for Christmas, threatening to upend the most sacred of Australian festive traditions.

Forget turkey. Forget ham. For many Australian families, Christmas lunch without prawns is simply not Christmas. The crisis sent shoppers into a frenzy, with some supermarkets reporting people buying entire trays of prawns weeks in advance and stashing them in their freezers like some kind of crustacean doomsday preppers.

The panic revealed just how deeply weird Australian Christmas traditions are when viewed from the outside. Whilst the Northern Hemisphere is roasting chestnuts and dreaming of white Christmases, Australians are standing around in 40 degree heat, eating cold seafood and wondering why anyone would want to cook a hot roast dinner in summer.

The prawn obsession is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Australian Christmas peculiarities. We have somehow convinced ourselves that a cold lunch of seafood, cold meats and salads is traditional, despite the fact that Christmas is a winter festival we have transplanted into the middle of summer and stubbornly refuse to adapt properly.

The Australian suburbs transform into battlegrounds each December as neighbours compete to create the most spectacular, outrageous and occasionally dangerous Christmas light displays. What starts as a few tasteful fairy lights inevitably escalates into full scale productions that would make Las Vegas blush.

Some households take it further than others. In 2018, a family in western Sydney created a display so elaborate it required its own dedicated power supply and caused traffic jams as people drove from across the city to view it. Council rangers were called repeatedly by disgruntled neighbours complaining about the noise, lights and constant stream of visitors.

Then there are the inflatable decorations. Giant inflatable Santas, snowmen and reindeer now dominate front yards across Australia, despite the cognitive dissonance of a inflatable snowman wilting in 38 degree heat. Some families have been known to spend thousands of dollars on these monstrosities, creating front yard displays that look less like Christmas and more like a bizarre carnival.

The real casualties are the people who just want a quiet Christmas. Imagine trying to sleep when your neighbour has installed a light display synchronised to music that plays Jingle Bells on repeat from dusk till midnight. Or discovering that your street has become a tourist destination because someone three doors down has recreated the North Pole complete with animatronic elves.

The competitive spirit extends to councils, with some regional towns holding official Christmas decoration competitions. This has led to entire streets coordinating their displays, creating zones where the collective electricity consumption could probably power a small village.

Only in Australia could Christmas lunch be interrupted by a snake in the pool, a huntsman spider in the salad, or a kangaroo helping itself to the pavlova. The combination of outdoor celebrations and Australian wildlife creates situations that would seem absurd anywhere else but are just accepted as normal here.

One family in regional Victoria reported returning from Christmas church service to find a wombat had somehow got into their house and eaten half the Christmas ham. Another household in Queensland discovered a carpet python had taken up residence in their Christmas tree, apparently attracted by the warmth of the lights.

Magpies, those terror birds of the Australian suburbs, don't take Christmas off. Many families have stories of swooping magpies disrupting backyard cricket games or stealing food directly off plates during outdoor lunches. One particularly bold magpie in Canberra became locally famous for specifically targeting people carrying seafood, leading to several prawn related incidents.

In coastal areas, seagulls present an even greater menace. These brazen birds have been known to conduct coordinated raids on beachside Christmas picnics, with some families reporting losing entire pavlovas to aerial attacks. The sight of someone running down the beach chasing a seagull that has stolen their Christmas lunch has become an unofficial symbol of Australian Christmas.

Then there are the possums. Nocturnal and curious, they have been known to investigate indoor Christmas trees through open windows, knock over outdoor decorations and generally create chaos. One family in Adelaide woke on Christmas morning to find a possum had climbed down their chimney, got into the house and destroyed the presents under the tree whilst apparently searching for food.