I remember, as young boy, waking up on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the end of my bed – usually stuffed into a pillowcase until its seams were bursting. It was such a huge heap of assorted, colourful gifts and my eyes were probably as wide as saucers with the anticipation of opening them. The worst bit was the wait – waking up at 4am and being told to go back to sleep for at least another three hours or so made the suspense drag unbearably.
These past three Christmases have been the most exciting since my childhood ones and they just seem to be getting more and more fun. At the moment George isn't quite old enough to wake eager and extra early on Christmas morning, so it will be me who'll be revisiting my childhood and asking "is it time yet?" – although probably not at 4am!
We have been to visit Santa, who had a bit of a Brummie accent, and even though George didn't have a list or didn't know what to ask for for Christmas, there is a whole heap of presents that Santa will be delivering – enough to fill two, if not three pillowcases.
Next year and probably the next few after that, George will more than likely be waking us up at some ridiculously early hour to tell us Father Christmas has been... and I'll be telling him to go back to sleep for a while.
Happy Christmas all!
No comments:
Post a Comment