I woke up to my sister’s morning breath blowing in my face. She whispered, “Wake up. It’s Christmas!” Rather than groan at her and roll over like other days, my eyes shot open and I hopped right out of bed. The sun had not come up yet and the only source of light in my room was the faint gleaming moon that poked through my blinds. Stumbling over the mound of unwrapped gifts that were sprawled across my floor from Christmas Eve, I ran to my door. I flung open the door and dashed to my brothers’ room to wake them up. 

“Wake up guys! It is time to open presents”, I screamed in excitement.

“Go to sleep”, they said, “It is only seven o’clock.”

Annoyed and disappointed, I stormed away from their room and sat on the hardwood stairs that led to my first floor. In front of me was a large window that looked out onto the still and quiet street. To pass the time until my brothers woke up, my sister and I drew pictures with our fingers into the frost coated on the window’s glass. To my surprise, after a short five minutes, I heard the pitter-patter of feet and the hushed sound of voices coming from my brothers’ room. We perked up and dashed to their door where we met our two zombie-like brothers slowly walking out of their room. My sister and I escorted our brothers downstairs and my excitement grew with each step. As we got closer to the kitchen, the aroma of Belgian waffles and the sound of sizzling bacon became stronger.

“Merry Christmas guys,” exclaimed my mom, “You can open presents as soon as we are  done with breakfast.”

I let out a sigh in disappointment and sulked to the living room. I plopped down on the couch and sunk into its cushions. As I patiently waited, I realized that there were four stray presents from under the Christmas tree that were sitting on the coffee table.

Intrigued by what they were, I hollered to my parents over the blasting Christmas music playing in the other room, “Ma! Dad! Can we open these?”

My mom quickly responded,  “No. Just wait. Those are for later. You guys can go open your other gifts now.”

“Yesssss! Finally!” moaned my siblings.

We raced towards the stacked pile of neatly wrapped gifts under the illuminated tree.

My mom yelled to us, “Slow down. Your gifts aren’t going to run away.”

We all came to a quick halt before the presents so we did not knock down the tall, skinny tree. The four of us began to grab all the presents we could. Although wrapped in the same cherry red wrapping paper that was covered with miniature Santa Clause figures, each present was labeled with our names so we knew which present belonged to whom. We started to open gifts and the wrapping paper started flying in the air. The sound of crinkling wrapping paper filled the room and the piles of the scraps of paper began to form on the floor. One by one, we each held up to showcase what we received. When there were no more gifts to open and the bottom of the tree was completely bare, the four of us started to clean up.

In a calm and soothing voice my mom said, “Before you clean up, everyone come into the living room and sit down on the couch.”

I had completely forgotten about the gifts I had seen before. We walked to the living room and the four of us squeezed together on one of the couch’s. No one said a word. The indistinct music playing in the background filled the silence in the room. My mom tossed each of us a gift that varied in size. The presents were wrapped the same as the ones under the tree, but these ones were labeled, 

“To: _________
From: Mom and Dad”
My mom and dad told my brothers to open their gifts first. We all watched as my oldest brother slowly ripped open the wrapping paper.

Trying to be polite, despite his confusion, my brother said, “A bag of treats? Thanks mom and dad.”

My sister did not allow any time to question my parents before she began to open up her present. After flinging her paper everywhere, she revealed a harness.

“Oh! That is nice! Thank you?” she said in confusion.

My mom answered  as if nothing was weird about this, “You’re very welcome little one”, said my mom, “Who is next?”

Puzzled and worried to open his gift, my brother began to peel back his wrapping paper. It was shaped like a book. It was heavy like a big book. Oh! What a surprise, it was a book. The bright yellow cover read, “Dog Training for Dummies.”

The room was silent. After putting two and two together, my siblings’ sat there with their mouths open in disbelief. My eight-year-old self did not understand why they were so shocked.

“It’s just a big book. Books are boring.” I thought to myself as I delicately opened my small and thin present.
Making sure not to damage whatever was inside, I managed to open the present without doing any harm to it. Inside was a glossy picture of two small, fluffy, brown dogs. I read the air bubble aloud that came out of the one dogs mouth. It read, “I am your dog! You will get me on January 4th! I need a name!” My eyes opened as wide as could be and my mouth was stuck in an “O” shape. Out of surprise, I dropped the picture and watched as it floated to the ground. After pulling myself together, I managed to let out a scream for the neighbors to hear, “WE ARE GETTING A PUPPY!” I sprinted to my parents who were sitting on another couch and leaped into their laps to hug them. My siblings’ followed my lead. We stayed there, piled on top of each other, crushing my poor parents beneath us. Without moving for a few minutes, we continued to embrace my parents in peace and quiet.
Breaking the silence, I whispered to my family, “This is the best Christmas ever.”