Santa Cometh

Having young children really adds an extra dimension to Christmas and without them, I would probably despise the festive season.  Unwanted gifts, family truces, false smiles and desperately trying to enjoy JC's birthday combine to make the month of December probably the most stressful month of the year.  The only miracle I encountered this year was getting a parking space at the shopping mall on Boxing Day!  Children give you at least a little magic on Christmas morning, if for only a few brief moments.

Now I don't know about you lot, but I have a very well rehearsed routine on Christmas morning which has been passed down through generations of my family.  The day begins at around 4.30 am.  Three children of differing shapes and sizes decide that Christmas should be celebrated by dancing on the heads of their parents as they sleep.  After ten minutes of domestic brutality, I stumble out of my bed after a full and refreshing 3 hours sleep and stumble around the bedroom, hopping as I put my wife's socks on.  I then toy with the emotions of the three excitable kids jumping for joy at the top stairs by declaring I feel like a shower and the unwrapping of gifts will be delayed by 30 minutes.  The first time I tried this with my kids, they pleaded, punched and kicked, demonstrating their extreme displeasure at my sudden need for hygiene.  After four years of this however, they have gotten wise and laugh at my attempts to wind them up - this will not deter me in future years!

Three kids sit on the stairs as I make my way down to the lounge and peek through the half opened door to check if "he's been."   Who is "he" you might ask....Santa of course!  I carefully scan the room, turn to the kids, pause then calmly and succinctly declare, "he's been!"  All niceties and festive protocol are then forgotten as three borderline angry kids charge down the stairs, push me to one side and begin ripping into a mountain of gifts. 

Shrieks of joy fill the crisp Christmas morn....

"XBox Kinect!" 

"Yes!"

"Harry Potter Lego!"

"Yes!"

"Season 1 of Glee!"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Discarded gift wrap now begins to swamp the whole house and the rate of gift opening increases as my three children begin to fit with excitement.  The odd jealous glance at siblings' gifts ensues as the three gift mountains begin to diminish.  My wife and I look on nervously as each child begins to count gifts opened and gifts remaining.  Will there be a confrontation?  Should we have bought Elliot that Harry Potter lego and not Hollie? 

Gifts unwrapped, kids happy, parents exhausted and still it's dark.  I cast a triumphant glance at my wife and congratulate myself on another successful visit from Santa Claus.  My eldest son, carrying his new remote control red Ferrari with working headlights, then asks me the fateful question....

"Are there any batteries?"

Shit!