Like most children, my sister and I could hardly wait for Christmas morning to come. The rule was we could get up and go look at what Santa brought but we couldn't open anything until my mom and grandparents were up and seated in the living room, preferably with a cup of coffee and the camera at the ready.
We don't remember the exact year but it was the early 1980s and even today it still brings about fond memories and laughter. My sister and I might have been about 5 and 8 or 6 and 9, respectively. Neither of us remember who woke up first (we shared a bedroom), but one of us got the other awake. We ran to the living room and flipped on the lights. With loud little girl giggles and exclamations of glees, we discovered all the wonderful presents Santa had left for us. If I recall there was quite the spread including a bicycle. My sister thought it was mine, but I would have already had mine by that age, so likely it was her first two-wheeler.
And that was all the farther we got because my grandfather, whose bedroom was adjacent to the living room, got out of bed, came to his bedroom doorway and told us it was 4:30 a.m. and in no uncertain terms we had to go back to bed!
Oh the devastation and disappointment! Of course, we hadn't bothered to look at the clock. We were kids! So we shut off the light and managed to get back to our room. We climbed back into bed and I remember whispering back and forth for quite a while because, of course, we were too keyed up to go back to sleep. Sleep finally came and we didn't wake up for the second time until after 8 a.m., which was long past the normal time of present opening!
I'm guessing Grandpa probably dozed in the chair that afternoon.