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My brothers (I have 4, all younger) and I were always eager to get downstairs and find out what Santa had brought, on Christmas morning.
So, very early on, my parents (who were usually up very late wrapping and organizing) made a firm rule that we weren't allowed to wake them or go downstairs before 8 AM.
We'd gather at the top of the stairs, conferring in hushed tones about possibilities.
As some of us got older, we were able to convince some of the younger ones to sneak down and take a quick peek- just an instant glimpse, reassurance that we weren't waiting in vain.
This was before everybody had a phone with the time on it. We only had the clocks in the house, and then eventually, whoever had a watch (me first, then others).
Eventually we realized that the whole time we were growing up, my parents had gone around the house and changed all the clocks (and watches!) to give themselves an extra hour of sleep...
...then, later in the day, as everybody was either food-napping, playing with a new Gobot, or watching sports, they'd sneak around the house and turn all the clocks and watches an hour ahead, back to the right time.
Every. Fucking. Year.
And they got away with it.
Every. Fucking. Year.
I'm not kidding when I say I didn't realize this was happening until I was like 15. At least. What a dumb shit.
Anyway, point is, Merry Christmas!!!
