By the time you get round to reading this, after frantically unwrapping presents, drinking Bucks Fizz and tucking into scrambled eggs, I would have probably been awake for a good 5 hours. You see, I get so excited that on Christmas Eve I just can’t sleep. I’ll lay there for what feels like hours with my eyes wide open, praying that I will eventually fall asleep. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember.
When I lived at home I used to run into my little brother’s room and jump on his bed until he’d get out, we’d then run into my parents room where they’d both complain that it was too early and that they at least needed a cup of tea first. After we’d made that with a side order of biscuits for bribery, my grandad would be used as an excuse. He used to stay over in the living room on Christmas Eve, which is of course where our pillow cases full of presents would lie in wait.
Anyway, I guarantee by now I would have unwrapped my prezzies, danced around to the Buble and downed at least two glasses of bubbles, so there’s only one thing to say. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
See you on the other side, in a couple of days time. I’m off to spend some quality time with my family.