When I was a kid Christmas meant one thing, The new Toys. Now, this year for really the first time, it was about the people.

I remember as a greedy little boy, I'd be so excited for Santa to arrive I wouldn't be able to sleep. The same excitement fueled insomnia strike on the eve of great Vacation as well. Disney World are the Caribbean were impossible to sleep before.

This Christmas Eve I learned a couple of things, perhaps most interestingly, why The Parents are always so Slow to get out of bed on Christmas morning. I labored with my Dad well passed 2am to reposition furniture and unpack the Monstrous TV Santa had Dropped down the chimney. I was exhausted, so not surprisingly I had no trouble getting to sleep, and quite some trouble getting up the next morning when my brother "cannonball'-ed me in bed.

Despite all the incredible clothes I got, (Bugatti!!! Bugatti!!!) I looked forward to sitting down at the Supper table with childhood friends and familiar hosts.

There is nothing quite like the constant threat of choking from laughter as a seasoned old English Prof quips and quirps about everyone at the table. The endless stream of "Did you know.." Tidbits from 'The American' and humbling rebuttals from those having already had their fill. I almost felt bad for him.. Almost :)

Day 1 down,
11 more to go.