This morning, Duchess came into my bedroom, parked herself next to my head, and announced "Mom, Santa has super-horrible handwriting." Then she trundled back out to the livingroom, and I said "Hey, what time is it?" and she never answered. The next thing I knew, the kids were merrily tearing into their stockings. Cook staggered out to see what was going on, and came back to report that it was 4 AM.
We had a lot of delightful presents to open and good food to eat. I leave you with this series of pre-present-opening photos, more evidence of Skipper's photo-phobia.
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