Christmas mornings are always the same. Every year, the same thing happens. My sister always wakes up earlier than everyone else in the house. She then proceeds to walk over to my bed. She will poke me awake and bounce up and down say “It’s Christmas. It’s Christmas,” over and over and over again. She knows better than to try and wake up my parents at 7 o’clock on Christmas morning. So, we will talk and guess about what are presents are until 8:30, when our parents wake up and walk into our room.They always tell us that we have to wait to come down until they are ready. We were never sure what they were doing. It was a mystery to us both. All we knew was that when we came down, there were cinnamon buns on the table, and hot chocolate ready for the two of us. We would then open the stockings that were hanging on the piano, and careful take out the little presents and put the candy back in. We would then take turns opening our presents, and smiling for the picture our mom always took. After all the presents were opened and wrapping paper thrown away. We would go upstair and play with our new toys and read the new books we got. After a while, we would get dressed in the dresses we bought and we would go downstairs to set the table and wait for the guests to arrive.
Christmas mornings are still the same, despite the changes that happened over the years. Stella still pokes me awake, even though we now sleep in different rooms. We still have to wait for our parents permission to come downstairs, even though we know that they are drinking their coffee and making the cinnamon buns. We still open the stockings first and take turns opening presents. We still go upstairs to put out gifts away, but now we come down stairs to help our mom cook. We still go up stairs to get dressed, and we still have Christmas dresses, but now mine are a lot more serious and a lot less puffy. We still set the table and wait for the guests. Even though the years have changed us, Christmas mornings are always the same.