Christmas: In Like A Lion, Out Like A {Bleep}

I do my grocery shopping for Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve, and I have every year. Because I'm an idiot who cannot learn a lesson, but also because it's the closest I ever come to getting in a little whips-and-chains style sadomasochism. Next Christmas, I'm resolving to shop early and ask Santa to give me Kristen's book. Give it to me good, big boy....

Did I just say that out loud?

This year, her book isn't out and my mother in law is here, so I had to settle for searching for a roll of frozen bread dough at 7pm on Christmas Eve. Which? Mission Impossible. So impossible, in fact, that this post may self destruct after you read it.

I took my daughter with me because she was driving everyone fucking nuts super duper excited that Santa was coming. She was so excited, in fact, that she decided to get to sleep early.
Asleep behind the wheel.
Except that I still had an entire shopping list to go and a veritable throng of people to beat my way through. And you know those bastards bought all the salmon before I could get back to the seafood counter.

So off to another store we went. And she stayed asleep. We found salmon, but not bread dough, and she still slept, this time in the seat of the buggy using my boobs as pillows.

We got home three hours after she fell asleep. I handed her to her father and we waited for her to wake up. She didn't.
Full Of Christmas Spirit
She slept through football, through getting passed to Gramma, getting changed into her jammies, through us giving up and making Santa's cookies and the reindeer's food without her.
Taste Testing the Reindeer Food Is Not For the Feint of Heart.
She slept through all the last minute moving around and wrapping and digging out Christmas gifts and general asshole loudness Santa and his reindeer coming to our house. And at 3am, when the butter was made for the turkey and the wild rice stuffing was cooked and wrapped up, when I staggered off to bed bleary-eyed and drunk with exhaustion, I just knew that Little Miss I Fell Asleep At 6:30 on Christmas Eve would be waking up right about when I was laying down.

I was wrong. Her brothers woke up instead. At 3 in the morning, right when I'd pulled up my covers and closed my eyes, they came downstairs, turned all the lights on and did I don't fucking know what until 6am when they came in to wake me up.

I did what any good mother trying to preserve the last little remnants of Christmas spirit in her children would do. I told them, "Fuck you, no" and went back to sleep until 8, when those sneaky little bastards woke up Sleeping Beauty and made Christmas begin.

And it was totally worth it.