Christmas morning started at 2 a.m. Technically, I guess, it started at midnight, when we pulled the presents out of their hiding spots and transferred them to the tree. But, I’m not counting that.
Two in the morning was when my little elf awoke, and started camping out in the living room for his “wait.” We told him not before 7. I didn’t hear the TV blaring until 4 a.m. I struggled downstairs to see him sitting on the sofa, just watching and waiting. Contently.
“Please go back to bed right now, and get some sleep. It is the middle of the night.”
Reluctantly he said OK… and, I learned later, he did fall back to sleep. Small Christmas miracle right there.
Finally, at 7, his little brother heralded the official start of Christmas with the “We got an XBOX!” chant. The little elf was so excited… more excited than anyone else in the house to open his presents.
Soon, there was paper and tape all over the floor, lots of commotion, and one little elf on the floor, sobbing. “I didn’t get what I wanted!”
“What did you want?”
“”A real bunny!” (He’s pushing his luck with that one)
“But you never told us you wanted a bunny!”
“I shouldn’t have to. I thought Santa would just know.”
“But you didn’t even make a list for Santa telling him you wanted a bunny — you don’t even believe in Santa.”
“Exactly.”