“It’s not Christmas yet,” I whisper to Amelia, who is 12 going on 6 going on bonkers with excitement. “Try to close your eyes and rest.”
My eyes are still closed. I have what I call parental vision, the ability to see with your eyes closed after getting two hours of sleep in the last 24. Parental vision allows you to make a baby bottle or pour a kid her pain medicine without gaining full consciousness.
Today, it’s not Amelia’s horrible nerve pain that has awakened her. It’s the anticipation of the arrival of another Christmas that has her wide awake.
In fact, the Christmas Kid has been awake since shortly before 5 a.m., making the case for continuous Daylight Savings Time and arguing that it was, in fact, nearly 6 a.m., and thus an appropriate time to get up and start opening presents.
I have repeatedly implored her to go back to sleep, which is as effective as asking the rising sun to pause along its path. It just isn’t happening.
So we play gin rummy and she beats me for maybe the 3,000th time in a row, and we laugh about the gifts we got mom. I think a Sham-Wow and a doughnut maker are kind of romantic in their way.
Finally, the kid agrees to put her head down. It’s 6:20 as I write this.
And of course now I can’t sleep.
After all, it’s almost Christmas.
Merry Pre-Christmas from the Smiths.