In my family, there is always some present (usually from a relative or friend) that is so ridiculously bad that we laugh about it until next Christmas. This year, that present came from my mother. One of Peter's stocking presents was some Brooks Brothers cologne. Only it wasn't cologne; it was women's perfume. Ooh la la.
My mother, who has never given a bad gift in her entire life, was shaken to the core. Fortunately, Will managed to liven things up when he locked in on the airplane bottles of booze from Peter and Billy's stockings and wouldn't let them go. Like father, like son...
The boys donned their Christmas PJ's, opened up their stockings and presents from my parents, and would have passed out on the floor from exhaustion had it not been for the 300 cookies they consumed.
Jack got to stay up and have dinner with us and, despite being exhausted, he revved up when we got home, instructing us on how and where to leave the milk and cookies for Santa.
Then Billy and I, equally bleary-eyed, but also as giddy as the kids themselves, got to work putting out the big presents from Santa. The highlight was the riding train (that I scored at the GUMP consignment sale). It is fully motorized and comes with its own (irritatingly large) oval track. Of course I have nowhere to store this monstrosity when it is not in use, but then again, Santa's gifts are never practical, are they?
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