Proof that Santa is real

As we tucked the kids in on Christmas Eve with thoughts of sugar plums dancing in their head, we very specifically told them not to wake us up until 10am the next morning.

Yeah, right.

At 7:28am they rammed our bedroom door and bombarded us with “GET UP! GET UP! GET UP NOW!” Lee told them to go eat breakfast.

By 8:30am they were back. “GET UP! GET UP! GET UP NOW!” Lee told them to go play a game for a little bit.

By 9am it was clear we were not going to get to sleep until 10am. Why does Christmas always come so early?

Before I dragged my tired butt out of bed I could hear the kids in the living room. I imagined them hand-in-hand, going around in a big circle, chanting. But then I realized what they were chanting was not the usual “we want to open our presents” or even a nice Christmas song. No Skyler was convincing the younger boys to sing “Santa isn’t real. Santa isn’t real.”

WHAT?!?

So I had to scramble out of bed before she convinced Caleb that there really is no big man in a red suit.

As I was getting up I heard Caleb say, “No way. Look at all these presents. Mom and Dad wouldn’t buy us all of this.”

And that’s when I realized being a cheapskate all year long has it’s benefits.