Christmas Eve...a drama

Christmas Eve.

1 pm.

I realize for the first time in our 12 years of marriage that if we want to have a roast for dinner, it will have to go in before dinnertime. 

6 pm.

Just because it is Christmas Eve, it does not mean we don't get to use our fancy plastic lunchroom plates. 

One more time...this time with Mom....and the top half of Anna.

Dinner dishes get cleared and kids get ready to go on our yearly "covert operation".

Details are classified.

The promise of covert operations do not make it easier to take a group photo.

Good enough.

Back to the house to open the jammies. This year we go "oldest" to youngest. Why am I only oldest when its time to do the dishes?

I start to see a pattern developing in the way we as a family behave when the camera is rolling.

See what I mean?

Ohp! There it is! The excited mommy face!  "Whatever could this be?"

Ethan goes for the slow, painful "I'd like to save this lovely wrapping paper" method.

He starts to whistle. Just to pass the time. Then gets threatened with doing the dishes by himself if he doesn't get a moveon.

Mathew fancies himself a bullfighter.

Meggy finds out that shaking a box full of soft jammies is not at all satisfying.

So she whips out her opposable toes.

Laney is surprisingly still happy, considering she is second to last.

She is mightily reward with wiener dog jamies. (That is, jammies with wiener dogs on them...not jammies for the wiener dog.) (Are you starting to feel like I have said "wiener" and unnecessary amount of times?)

Anna takes a look.

Assesses what will be required to open this thing.

Realizes four teeth aren't going to cut it.

And does what any self-respecting baby would do.

"Open this, Daddy."

And...off to bed!