This is how my Christmas morning started:
4:30am Son comes into our bedroom and asks to go downstairs to see if Santa came. Wife agrees he can.
4:31am Son comes back up to say the cookies left out for Santa are just crumbs. Wife asks if he left any gifts downstairs. Son runs off to check.
4:32am Son returns to say the stockings by the fireplace are full. Wife asks if there were any gifts under the tree. Son runs off to check.
4:33am Son heard to gasp, followed by the sound of paper being rustled and gifts being opened. Wife jumps out of bed and is met by daughter in the hallway. They head downstairs to stop son opening everything. Sister-in-law, who is visiting for the holiday, heads downstairs too. The thumping sound on the stairs means Christmas 2008 is a "go."
4:34am My eyes open.
4:35am More thumping on the stairs, this time the unmistakable sound of two adults and two children running back up them.
4:36am I am informed that, along with the gifts Santa delivered for us, our cat Luigi had left a gift of a dead mouse in the living room. A dead mouse I am now being called upon to clean up.
4:37am Christmas morning is less than six minutes old, and I am cleaning up a corpse.
It doesn't stop there. Naturally, not being dressed, I took Squeaky RIP to the backdoor and tossed him out into the yard as far as I could without going out into the snow with no shoes or pants on. Two days later, Squeaky was still laying on top of the snow, perfectly preserved as if placed in the fridge. Which he was, of a fashion. This unfortunately meant I had to clean up more, although that really just meant tossing his tiny body a little further down the yard on to a patch where the snow had melted.
Let's hope it's a good one, without any more dead rodents to deal with.
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