A Christmas morning story

Christmas in my house has always been a big deal. Everyone has their own Christmas quirks and family plans. Some people love Christmas, for others it’s exhausting and for many it’s both.

Christmas at my house definitely falls into the latter category. I love it, but it’s utterly exhausting. Some people in my family experience this excitement more strongly than others. Specifically, I’m talking about my brother.

My brother is a great guy. He’s always full of enthusiasm and always has a smile, a joke and a song on hand (unfortunately, these three things often come out at the same time in some sort of garbled mess of ridiculousness).

Christmas time with my brother is especially ridiculous.

As a child, he was rather excitable. Since he is older than me, I don’t have many (or any) memories of him under the age of 8. But considering how excitable he was at the age of 8 and older, I can only imagine what he was like at an even younger age. There is no doubt in my mind that if he were born 15 years later he’d be hopped up on Ritilin and it would probably be the right decision.

With all of this energy as a child, I’m told that he used to get so excited about Christmas that he would make himself sick. Now, I can’t speak for this first hand, as I wasn’t around. But apparently, according to my parents, sister and other family members, my big bro would get so excited about Christmas that he would physically get sick. He’d get so worked up about Santa Claus coming that he would be ill. The illness however, never slowed him down.

Luckily, since he’s in his late 20’s, he doesn’t get quite that excited and can usually fend off any sort of excitement-induced illness.

But, the excitement is still there. And it’s contagious.

At a time when most families with 3 grown children are sleeping in until a reasonable hour on Christmas morning, my brother was there to wake us all up at 7am sharp to get on with the Christmas festivities. No time can be wasted.

I imagine we would have been woken earlier, but my parents always had a rule that you had to wait until the clock said 7:00 before you could wake them up. My brother, sister and I used to be up at 6am or earlier staring at the presents under the Christmas tree and anxiously waiting for the clock to chime 7.

I’ve always loved this little ritual and I definitely cherished it this year. But, I may need a few days to recover from the excitement of it all.

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1 Response to “A Christmas morning story”


  1. 1 Erin December 27, 2009 at 7:58 pm

    Haha we had the 7:00 rule too! This year I think it was after 9 easily.


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I'm Claire. I like to write about ridiculous things.

I love chocolate but don't think cheese and cake belong together.

I often wish it was socially acceptable to wear glitter before 10pm.

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