The kids were told they couldn't get out of bed until 7 a.m. At 6:59 a.m. they were at the foot of the bed telling me it was 7. How they managed that feat without an alarm clock is beyond me. Meanwhile earlier at 1 a.m. that morning, I heard Trevor's magical tread on the stairs (the boy stomps like an elephant - it really is an acquired skill) complete with his ninja skills of SLAMMING his bedroom door (I don't know how Heather never wakes up). I gave it a few to give him bathroom time......I hear the running stomp back up the stairs.....I start to doze off....SLAM and more running. Now I'm up. There he is standing in the hall - MOM. ITS CHRISTMAS. SANTA! LET'S....my response: GET BACK IN BED. Trevor: but, but..... GET. BACK. IN. BED. 7. A. M. Trevors response? I can't tell time Mom.
I come back down after carrying him up to find he had touched every single present, sorted every single present and completely opened his stocking. Needless to say he got in trouble....then again SLAM at 2:30 - really?! You think he'd manage to figure out not to tip off his mother with the door slamming. He got a good spanking after that. So imagine how thrilled I was at 6:59 when Eric and I bleary eyed got up for the present reveal. After the glory of presents I crawl back into bed. I awaken to find Eric barbecuing biscuits on the grill. Turns out our oven finally died. So...two for two on holidays. Dripping ceiling on Thanksgiving, broken stove on Christmas! Eric then says there's still New Years - I yell why did you jinx us?!
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