Christmas Morning

It's 5.30 am and I want to wake Kieron up. But I can't. In happier times, he would bound out of bed and start bouncing about immediately. 'Callum, Callum, wake up it's Christmas!!' would be the cry reverberating around the house. A couple of years ago, Callum would leap out of bed but of late he has grumbled as only a mid-teen can and grudgingly given up the warmth of his bed to keep his annoying little brother company.
Three sacks of presents, three stockings, each labelled Jade, Callum and Kieron to avoid confusion. Although a few years ago I got the boys presents mixed up and they were opened with hilarity and pity for mum who 'must have been drunk last night'. No, just a bit tired. When Kieron was young enough to truly believe in Father Christmas, questions would be fired at me unrelentingly...how did Santa know what to get? how did I know who had sent what? This was answered in a variety of ways depending on how awake I was. My morning coffee would have to wait until most presents were opened and admired. Kieron opens everything frantically, Callum is a little slower. 'What game is that?', 'We'll play my game first' ....the sibling bickering has begun.
Like a whirlwind, everything is opened and I wander round, black sack in hand picking up rubbish. Presents for me are given amidst tales of when they were bought and the rationale behind each. It doesn't matter...whatever the gift, it's given with love. Lots and lots of love.
Kieron runs off after his brother and peace reigns. Breakfast consists of the contents of a selection box, but hey..it's Christmas.
Today is so quiet. No little boy to open presents, instead I opened small gifts that I had bought him. I pulled some crackers on my own and tried to laugh at the jokes. I'm trying to block out the sounds of next door's children. I'm trying.