'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring... oh, wait...
"Go back to bed," I say, groggily.
"But I threw up."
Poor Ethan. What a way to start Christmas. Poor me. Is there any possible way to get puke out of a mattress? Especially at three in the morning?
I set him up in a little nest right outside the bathroom door. He refuses the light being turned off, though. He's up again at 4:20. And by "again", I don't mean to imply that he sleeps in the intervening time...
There is whispered conversation. Connor greets Ethan.
"I'm throwing up."
Because he has a choice in the matter? He didn't take into account the scheduling conflict?
Emily and Connor wait while Ethan throws up again at 5:20. There's nothing for it. We give up on the notion of sleep and go down to rip open some presents.
We've finally given in and given Connor his cell phone. I decided to put it in his stocking, since it's normally the last thing they tear into, yet it's the first thing he does. I hurriedly grab the video camera to catch his reaction. He's shocked into silence for a solid three seconds. A record. I look down. The friggin' camera is paused.
Moving on, I pull a large present out from under the tree to give to Ethan. Apparently this is the keystone gift. The tree decides it would prefer a horizontal life. It dumps water everywhere, breaks a tree-side's worth of ornaments, and irreparably damages the tree stand.
I think it's time to break out the espresso flavored vodka for my coffee.
I hope this morning is going better for everyone else.