I was on the phone early this morning with my friend Trisha when her 8-year-old son woke up and stumbled into the room. "Christmas Eve!" I heard him exclaim to her.
I remember being that excited as a child. Every day until Christmas draaaaggged out until I was sure time was standing still. And going to sleep knowing Santa might arrive any minute? It was probably the only night of the year I willingly raced off to bed, only to lie awake staring at the ceiling for hours.
The one thing about not having kids is that it is a little disappointing not to have that "Santa's coming!" energy in the house. Still, every year Blair plays Santa for the cats and gets up early to lay out presents and stuff stockings before waking me. And oddly enough, our cats play along. Usually we can't get them to do anything we want but they prowl around their gifts and sniff and inspect each one as we open it for them and really get into the spirit of things.
I did a book signing today at the Fat Cat and sold 7 books. Blair got it into his head that we must have Chex Mix this holiday season, so that's cooking in the oven right now as he watches the start of the Panthers game. Later tonight we'll head over to our neighbors for a Christmas Eve open house, then come home and open the gifts my aunt and uncle sent us and probably, knowing us, polish off the last of the Chex Mix.
I'm not thinking of anything even remotely work-related for the next 48 hours. Christmas is for friends and family and reflection, and also for eating mounds of Chex Mix.
Warm and happy wishes to everyone!
(And don't forget to watch for Santa...)