The only dull thing about working on Christmas Eve is that everything is closed. It's nice there are no people about. That's a bonus. It's almost like being a hermit, but it shares with that a lack of amenities, such as coffee and so on. In addition, the Entities that decide how things are to be done have chosen this moment to have drainage work performed, featuring live sewage. So the ground floor smells bad. They think, "Only the peons who work on Christmas Eve will be here, so ... they're right, of course.
Bad comedy tends to drive out good comedy, I notice. When a funny movie or tv series comes out, it's followed by lots of shoddy imitations, which, despite their ineptitude, take their wrongful place and seem to be accepted as the real thing. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids was good, so they immediately thought, "Let's have another crack at it, only this time he ... let's see, okay: he blows up the baby!" The problem is, those two things are very different. Miniaturization is fun and exciting. Enormous babies are dull. Normal babies are not terribly exciting to begin with, because they can't really have adventures, and can't have had much experience. An autobiography of a baby would probably be thin on material. What the producers have done, then, is take something dull and make it really big. (I suppose they couldn't really just have him shrink the kids again. The thing to do would have been to blow up the kids and then tell the story from their point of view. That way the whole world would be an amusing microcosm for them).