Three cranky siblings, two warring factions, one cross-dressing contractor: It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas in New Jersey.

Holidays are a time for giving, and it’s no different on The Real Housewives of New Jersey. But when the Manzos, Giudices and Gorgas try to spread a little holiday cheer, there’s bound to be a fly in the eggnog.

As Jacqueline’s father, Jerry, helps haul an artificial tree from her attic, he offers a sober assessment: “Christmas is one of the most stressful times of the year,” he says, “because people spend money they don’t have.” How true! This Christmas in Franklin Lakes, every gesture of giving turns out to be bankrupt.

To try to bridge this new gulf, Lauren arrives at Chris and Albie’s with Jacqueline, some wine and home-cooked food. Jacqueline expects a bachelor pad, but when the place is spotless ,she demands, “Why does it look so clean, what bitches are cleaning it for you?” Apparently, the “bitches” would be Greg.

We’re also getting the sense that Chris and Albie have cleverly arranged for their own gay to cook, clean and walk the dogs. As Lauren sobs about her broken family ties, Chris heads past the household stripper pole to give Lauren an early Christmas gift — a key to the apartment so she can come anytime she wants. We hope she won’t interrupt Greg’s tender ministrations to her brothers.

Of course, there’s some tension on the island of misfit boys. Chris isn’t big on Greg’s musical choices, saying, “Greg’s moved in, and if I have to listen to Mariah Carey’s Christmas album one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

Later, Lauren returns with Mommie-Dearest Caroline in tow for more futile gestures of holiday spirit. The boys have a vision of Christmas cheer that involves a $49.99 green feather Christmas tree, while Lauren guns for named-stockings, upon which she glues red pepper flakes. Suddenly she’s too upset to continue. It seems the key didn’t mean a thing, and she feels left out again. Caroline takes the boys’ side and yells at Lauren. It’s one of those cliché-filled explosions (“That’s something called life! You changed! They moved!”), meaningless and therefore perfect for her new radio advice show.

We have our own piece of advice for Lauren: Move out. Of the state. Really. Abandon your make-up counter franchise, salvage what little self-esteem you have left, hitch a ride on Santa’s sleigh, and get as far away as you can from Franklin Lakes.

Kathy Wakile and husband Rich are still looking for a restaurant to buy and contemplate one with painfully red walls. Kathy envisions belly-dancers and a place where couples can come for “a few tokes on a hookah.” Rich imagines the hefty price and says, “What the hell, I’ll go bankrupt like everybody else.”

Ironically, Kathy never wanted Rich’s “gift” of a restaurant. All she wanted was a little catering business, but the lure of overspending is almost too much to resist, until Albert Manzo gives the couple a reality check about the genuine difficulties. If Kathy respects anything, it’s the Manzo family restaurant. She enthuses about the Brownstone’s practically Babylonian delights, saying, “It’s top shelf, down to the pink chocolate fountain.”

It’s about time this season’s newbie housewife gives us the gift of something — anything — interesting. Week after week, she fails to deliver. As far as Kathy is concerned, we fear it’s going to be the kind of Christmas where someone wraps up some tube socks and calls it a gift.

There’s no gift like a good relationship, and Joe Gorga can’t wait to give his wife Melissa singing superstardom. Melissa is applying generous amounts of body lotion as she contemplates her potential career and waits for Soul Diggaz’s K-Mack, Corté Ellis, and their entourage to arrive. The fly producers’ credits include Beyoncé and Britney Spears, and Melissa is convinced that she could be “the next one,” as she puts it. Husband Joe is naively enthusiastic as he plies the hip hop impresarios with red wine in the living room.

But first, Melissa has to sing. Three-year-old Gino yawns as his Mom belts out her one and only song, a heart-felt and totally predictable melody about how she feels “on display.” When she reaches the chorus, Joe holds his wine glass high, smiling and looking at K-Mack and Corté for endorsement. They agree that Melissa has the chops, but wonder if she’s ready to spend 15-hour days in the studio.

In one of the more offensive clips of the entire season, Joe looks straight into the camera and says that he’s all for Melissa’s career, but she’s still the mother of his three children and shouldn’t be away from home for that long. Is this the 21^st century version of barefoot and pregnant? Get to that kitchen, Melissa, and rattle those pots and pans! Even though we have doubts about her talent, we were hoping she’d tell him to go to hell.

Joe, however, has the perfect solution: He will build a recording studio in the basement. “Thank You, Jesus!” Melissa exclaims while looking toward the heavens. And later, as we watch Joe and his contracting crew making early preparations, he dreams the studio might have a one-way mirror so that he can keep an eye on his wife and those African-American producers. It’s sad to watch as they envision the finished studio with “gold walls, so that I can make gold records,” and talk of insulation rather than sound-proofing.

Jaqueline’s big-but-simple gift to her family finally arrives: A holiday party that will help reunite the Gorgas and the Giudices. As we like to say here at Aftershocks, be sure of your motivations and never count on their outcome.

Jacqueline claims to be a peace-maker, but we’re siding with the Cassandra-like Ashley, who tried to warn her mother to butt out of Melissa and Teresa’s feud. “Anywhere there’s drama, she tries to insert herself in it,” Ashley says cynically of her mom. “She was friends with Danielle for a reason.” She means Danielle “Garbage” Staub, of course, The Real Housewives’ favorite villain and scapegoat from the first seasons of the show.

And what Jacqueline didn’t imagine is that everyone in the family might actually like Melissa and Joe Gorga better than Teresa and Joe Giudice.

Teresa shows up in what appears to be layers of mismatched fur, as if she’s ready to flee the country and has refused to leave any of her fur behind. Apparently earlier that day, Teresa confronted her husband’s ex-business partner’s lawyer’s wife, Monica, in public, and “went off on her,” as Joe boasts to the other men. “I had to silence the lamb,” Teresa says to Jacqueline in the kitchen. We think she’s confusing Hannibal Lecter with The Passion of the Christ, but whatever.

As the crowd gets liquored up, Joe amuses everyone by mimicking Teresa’s legendary table flip. Teresa is the only one who doesn’t laugh. It’s supposed to be a holiday party, but instead of singing carols around the tree, Caroline dares Joe Gorga to wear Jacqueline’s outfit. He does, even as Jacqueline frets over thoughts of “his balls flapping around in there.” Caroline likes the sexy jokes that Joe makes, and her son Albie says that Melissa and Joe “really know how to have a good time,” cheap drag and all.

Through the whole scene, a snarky bassoon theme plays, hinting at the elephant in the room that nobody seems to notice except Joe and Teresa: They’re no longer the center of attention.

The silence of the lamb, indeed.