“Wake up! Wake up!” my brother shouted in my ear.

I jolted awake, loads of energy in my veins.

“Is it Christmas morning?” I squealed.

“No, its Christmas Eve! Duh,” he said and ran off.

I groaned. It felt like each day leading up to the holiday was longer than the previous day. I flopped out of bed and changed into today.

Just one more day, I thought, and flew down the stairs.

The aroma of fresh cooked bacon and chocolate chip pancakes filled my nose as I sat down for breakfast. Our family discussed the plans for the day, and we cleared the table.

I wrapped the last of the presents and placed them underneath the tree, fighting the temptation to see which ones were for me.

Don’t be selfish, I thought.

I made myself some hot chocolate and stuck in a candy cane as well, and went upstairs to the media room. I placed a Christmas movie in the blu ray and sat back to enjoy the day.

Once the credits started to roll, I switched the TV off and headed downstairs. My mom was cooking dinner and I helped her glaze the ham and mash the potatoes. Once my help was no longer needed, I decided to watch some of the old Disney channel Christmas shows, the ones that were actually decent.

It was about 4:00, and I climbed into my church dress for the Christmas Eve service. We drove to the chapel, and made our way through the crowd to find a seat. Once the service was done, we headed back home, starving. We set the table and dug in. The ham was delicious and the dessert was rich. I managed to push my plate away, patting my tummy. I climbed into my Christmas pajamas, and we all watched Christmas movies together.

“Okay, time for bed, or Santa won’t come!” I jokingly rolled my eyes and got ready for bed. I climbed in under the war covers and slowly drifted off to sleep, not before hearing sleigh bells outside my window.