The pitter patter of little feet

I slept at my folk's place Christmas Eve so I could re-live my childhood (and by childhood I mean until I was 18) and wake my parents up at 5am on Christmas morning so I could open my gifts.  My dad and I even joke about it for a while and he said he couldn't wait until morning to hear the pitter patter of my feet coming down the hall to wake him up.

As usual, I didn't get back to their house until about 4am and didn't fall asleep until about 4:30 so around 8am I was the one who was woken up by the pitter patter of feet coming in to wake me up so we could open presents! 

I made out like a bandit this year and to top things off, I'm pretty sure I've got a solid plan for a 5 day roadtrip this coming week.  STOKED.

Also...my dad's "no beer for a year" plan ends January 4th.  He's under the assumption he'll be trashed in 2 beers.  January 4th, who wants to come with me to find out?!

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