Someone might have been just a little bit excited about Santa's impending arrival:
Earlier today Harper got a big kick out of helping me make and decorate cookies for Santa. By help I mean she snatched loose bits of dough and added approximately three pounds of sprinkles to each baking sheet.
Of course we left them carefully on the coffee table. Hopefully Rebound will leave them for Santa!
When I was growing up we went to my mom's parents' house every Christmas Eve. On the way home we would listen to carols, marvel at the lights, watch the sky for Rudolph's nose, and always ask my parents whether we could open our gifts if Santa had already been to our house by the time we got home. Every year we were thrilled when they said yes. Every year I would hold my breath just a little bit as we walked in the door. And every year my heart would skip a beat as I thought, briefly, that the shadows in the living room were outlines of gifts. But Santa never beat us there. I think it was because we hadn't put out the cookies yet.
Harper was a little nervous going to bed tonight. She's very excited about the presents, but I think she may have mixed feelings about Santa (who she flees if we see in public) actually tromping around our house while we sleep. Maybe she takes after Auntie Shannon, who slept in my room every Christmas and Easter when we were little, so frightened was she about the benevolent treat and gift leaving folks.
I'd better get to bed now, so Santa can get to business.