Finally, the time has come...
No more expectations, no more counting the days to Xmas, no more threats to be put on Santa's bad list (yes, we used this a lot this year, even pushing to calling Santa on the phone a couple of times, asking him to potentially put one of the girls on the dreaded list).
The Christmas tree is surrounded by packets and boxes. Small ones and large ones. Red ones and silver ones. As if a wave of presents had reached the tree as it reaches a shore.
Despite being up late last night, the girls show up in our bedroom at the crack of dawn, standing right next to me and murmuring "Daddy, can we go downstairs and check if Santa has been?".
Santa did definitely pay a visit to our house last night! He ate a couple of cookies, drunk his Brandy and gave carrots and peanuts to Rudolph and the other reindeers.
There is no delaying it, no cuddle in bed this morning. The mild request turns to an urgent plea and so the best day of the year begins, part asleep, part excited.
Then, the fun begins!
As it is now our habit, we connect our home with both grandparents homes for a live broadcast of the event, and the girls start their dance made of jumping, screaming, unwrapping boxes, opening presents then presenting them to both sets of grandparents, repeating ad-nauseum.
Santa, this year again, seems to have known exactly what everybody wanted and delivered in large quantities.
Next step, Sarah gets in the kitchen and starts preparing the English version of our Xmas Day dinner...
See you in few hours!
