Christmas morning:
I usually get woken up (yes, even now, and despite the fact one of them is 6 feet 4) by my children burrowing into the bottom of our bed to wake me up.
We then go downstairs and set up the fire, and USUALLY the kids open their stockings. There are then the usual ooos and aaahs about such thrilling things as new toothbrushes and pairs of socks. This year, however, my daughter made a stocking for my husband and I so we could do the same.
Next breakfast of orange juice and croissants...
...opening real presents
...playing with said presents WHOSE idea was it to get my son a STYLOPHONE????
...then attempting to get the Christmas dinner whilst simultaneously answering hundreds of phone calls
...eating too much
...playing idiotic board games (K got a good one this year, called LOGOS it's all about logos, branding, advertising etc. She is TERRIFYINGLY good at it because she seems to have a photographic memory - would YOU have known what the colour of a jar of Sunpat peanut butter has / what the picture is on HP sauce bottles?)
In the afternoon
Walking through the still deep snow about a mile to my brother's. Well, I think you all know by now he's a bit unusual. This time he had a ladder / working platform set up in his living room, covered in fairy lights, which he was sitting on, like a throne!
Boxing Day
Round to my sister in laws, where all the other family were too, to eat AGAIN. Amused by various fun type activities like watching my mad B-i-l setting up pottassium permanganate and glycerine in an egg cup experiment...