5:00am Wake-up Call

My son, Mr. Energy, decided Christmas should start at 5:00am. Oh, God! But he wasn't up late cleaning the house, doing the dishes and stuffing stockings, so it made all the sense in the world to him to start at dawn.

Some how or another I talked him into 6:15. I was so asleep I don't remember what I said to him -- I mean, snarled at him, but it worked. He woke me in the middle of a really delicious dream. Wished I could have hit the "pause" button and then gone right back to it. No such luck, but I did get one of those 5 minute snoozes that was actually an hour long.

By 6:15am I drag myself out of bed. My santa hat is crooked, covering one eye.

AUDIO: ripping wrapping paper noises, occasional "ohhhs!" and "ahhhs!"

VIDEO: big smiles, mom looks way tired in red and white santa hat and pj's, furry socks.

Actual time required for "Christmas" -- 2 months of begging, bugging me, santa lists, subtle hints, shopping and the de rigeur hideous flood of kiddy commercials for endless crap no one needs, then 15 minutes of wrapping ripping. Reminds me of some fancy dinners I've planned, shopped for, prepared, marinated, chopped, sauted, simmered, roasted, worried over and then they get gobbled down in 10 seconds flat.