Please can I have some sleep for Christmas. Ideally eight-hours non-stop (every single day, preferably), but if you can’t manage that, then six or seven would do.
I know I’ll probably leave it too late on the 24th to start stuffing weird shaped things into the hosiery… and I ought to have done it days ago. But, once again, you can be certain that it’ll be quite late before I begin .
So, of course, you’ll be well on your way from the North Pole by the time I sneak into three Boys’ bedrooms to leave them an exciting sock-full of treats to discover, all crinkly and mysterious.
However, if you could sprinkle some magical sleeping powder over them as you fly past, that would be super.
I love a Christmas morning stocking-fest, but, invariably, the cry “he’s been!” goes up eye-stingingly early. Sometimes that’s been a good thing because there has been a vast dead bird to stuff into the oven, but not this year.
Do you remember the timeI changed the clocks? Boys One and Two hadn’t long learned to tell the time so we told them they couldn’t get out of bed until 6am or they couldn’t keep their presents. They nodded solemnly and, eventually, went to sleep.
Meantime, I changed their clocks by an hour. It wasn’t such a nasty trick to pull, was it? And it was a one-time-only experience.
So, dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is my children (particularly the smallest, noisiest one) to sleep all night through, like babies of cliche not real ones. Please could I have that? I’ll be good…. honest.
”Merry Christmas! This post is my entry into the Tots100/Argos 12 Days of Christmas competition.“