Christmas Is About the Kids

I think I was more excited than the kids about Christmas! I was excited to see the smiles on their faces when they ran downstairs to see what Santa left. They definitely were happy and had more energy than anyone in the house. The adults stayed up 'till the 'wee' hours of the morning setting up the larger toys.
The kids left some cookies that they played with, sneezed on and one of them even bit a cookie to make sure it was good enough for Santa. They made the cutest note: Dear Santat I Like it Win You Bring presents Today. Louve You.
Pretty good note for a kindergartner, a three-year-old and two fifty something aged-grandparents helping them. I made sure Santa wrote them a note back and that the cookies were properly thrown,- I mean properly taken care of.
Daddy (not mad at him now) and my father spent hours setting up our son's Thomas the Train set which consisted of 161 pieces.
The adults finally crawled into bed around 4:00 am then about four hours later we hear the five-year-old, future Oscar contender, "Oh my God! Oh my God! Look at all these toys!" she screamed. She called for her brother, "Come look! I think there is something for you too- look, look, look!"
The sleep deprived adults quickly sprang up- eyes closed, crooked smiles, and still dressed in yesterday's attire (who had enough energy for pajamas).
"Oh boy. Wook at all deez presents from Santa!" our son smiled. "See mommy, I told ya Santa would bring us some presents," he adds with a smirk.
"And I told you that Santa sees everything you do, no matter where you are or who you are with," I told him.
He flared his nostrils and looked as if he wanted to say something until I raised my eyebrows and moved toward him.
"Look at this- Santa wrote you a note back," grandma said.
They ran over to see what the note said: HO, HO, HO! Thank you for the cookies. Love, Santa.
"Wow, mommy Santa 'gots' the same writing like you," my daughter said.
The adults all looked at me. Daddy was the only one laughing. "I told you not to write back."
"How do we have the same handwriting?" I asked.
"You both write like little children," she answered.
I bite my bottom lip.
We finally made it upstairs to see the train set. The men did a great job and thank God they didn't forget batteries. Everyone was hushed with smiles as we watched the trains go around the tracks. After some time we all went back downstairs for breakfast.
Of course the kids weren't very interested in eating, so we talked them into just drinking their orange juice before going back to play.
"I need somebody to come upstairs in the playroom to play with me and my choo-choo train," our son asked.
"I gotta get the dishes," I answered. My mom added, "I'll help you." The men both stretch and yawn. "Wooh! We're still tired from setting it up all night," daddy said. "Besides, I'll get the dishes since you cooked."
"Oh isn't that nice of you- doing something out of character like that, but that's okay," I said condescendingly.
My mom jumps in, "He's gone up there by himself."
About 15 minutes later, he comes downstairs with his Spider-man backpack on and he's dragging his matching suitcase which is half-zipped. All eyes are on him as he begins to unpack his bags. He begins pulling out the tracks from the train set. I close my eyes and begin chocking on my toast.
"What in the-" daddy begins. He looks over at me. "I know he didn't just go up there and destroy that train set."
"Well, destroy isn't a good word- he didn't have anyone to play with up there so he brought it down here to play with," I smiled, as I sat back and finished my toast.
"Uh, you still got the dishes?" I asked with a smile.