Steve fidgeted by the Christmas tree, waiting for his dad to get up. Although he intended to stay up all night, he fell asleep before midnight. He wanted to open presents the minute it became Christmas, but his dad had finally sent him to bed, telling him he’d have to wait until morning. Outside, a foot of snow covered the ground in the cold weather. He could hear the furnace working overtime and felt the air coming through the floor vents. Three presents under the tree bore his name, one from his parents, another from his grandparents, and one from Santa.

He hopped up and went to the kitchen. Before he could say anything, his mom pointed at the table. “Stevie, sit at the table and have some cereal before you ask again.”

“Aww, Mom, do I have to?”

“Yes, you’ve been up and down for almost an hour and a half. Your father will be up when he’s up. He had to work late last night, let him sleep. Your presents aren’t going anywhere.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He sat at the table, and she poured a bowl of cornflakes, sprinkling a spoonful of sugar over the top.

Steve ate as fast as he could, his cheeks filled with cereal. When they were gone, he picked up the bowl, drank the milk, and showed the empty bowl to his mother, his cheeks bulging with milk. He had gobbled up his food, checking around the corner from his seat every time he heard a noise. As he finished his bowl, he listened to his father coming toward them, the slip shuffle of his sleepy walk on the wood floor.
“Swallow it, and you are good.”

“Thank you, Mom.” He turned to his father. “Dad, Mom made your coffee. Santa came. Do you want to see what he brought you?” His eyes were wide, with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Ok, son, let me get my coffee, and we can look. Of course, waiting for Grandma and Grandpa to get here might be nice.”
His face dropped. They lived so far away, and Grandpa disliked driving in the snow.

“I’m kidding, sport,” his dad picked up the cup and took along sip. “Are you ready, Momma?”

“I am.”

Steve jumped up and ran to the living room, struggling to contain himself.

His dad came in and sat in his recliner. Mom sat on the edge of the couch. “Go ahead, Steve, pick one.”

He started to pick the one from his grandparents, but changed at the last minute. Smiling as he picked up the gift for his mom from Dad, he handed it to his mom. He looked at his dad, who winked at him.

“My goodness, Brett. I know you didn’t wrap this up. It doesn’t look like your usual style.”

His father looked away at the accusation, but turned back when he heard the paper opening. His mom opened the small box and gasped. She turned the box around and showed Steve two small silver earrings shaped like hearts and a matching necklace. “Thank you, Brett, they’re lovely.”

Steve reached for another present. His dad stopped him. “I’ll go last; you grab yours. You’ve been waiting.”

Steve opened the package from his grandparents. He grinned as his mom snapped a picture of him holding the six-pack of socks. Steve set them down on the floor, seeing the hole in his sock on the bottom. He slid his foot underneath, trying to hide it from his mom before she made him go change so she could sew it up. Next was the gift from his parents. After opening it, he clapped joyfully, holding up four Hot Wheels cars. Looking up at his parents, he picked up the package labeled ‘Santa.’ After tearing through the paper, he yelled in excitement upon discovering the light blue box containing the Evel Knievel Stunt bike. He jumped up. “Thank you, Mom and Dad!” he exclaimed as he held the box up.

“I bet you have some fun with that. Maybe he can jump those Hot Wheels.”

Steve hugged the box and then grabbed the last present under the tree. It was heavy. He handed it to his dad.