Okay, so Christmas Eve at my folks' is a formal affair. We get all dressed up, drink wine I can't afford, and eat a fancy feast off my mom's good dishes. We might play a game or sing Karaoke, or watch the kids open presents, and I get my new pyjamas. But not this year. This year we played a game I like to call Poo the Potato. I set a bag of potatoes at one end of the room and buckets at the other. So there were two teams, and each person has to put a potato between their legs (by their bum, obviously) and walk with it like that to the bucket, then squat so it falls in. The kids figured out the potato stays put better if they hop to the bucket and omg it was the funniest thing ever. We added up the potatoes at the end and the winners got special poo emoji cups that I'd found at the dollar store.
The kids opened stockings that my mom had done up for them (with new loofahs and body wash, much needed) and some presents. All the girls got makeup kits. But like, real ones. They were thrilled. Then we ate our red meat.
Oh and meanwhile all this Christmas-ness was going on, the kids' uncles were out in my parents backyard putting up that 14-foot trampoline for the kids that DP bought, that wouldn't fit in our yard. It took about 3 hours and it was cold and dark. But you know our kids are spoiled, and DP's younger brothers were more than happy to do it.
They couldn't jump on it just yet, but they loved the idea of the huge present. It was after midnight by the time we left my parents' house, and the girls insisted on coming with us even though I told them they would just have to go straight to bed anyway. Gigi snuck downstairs while I was still up to put out cookies for Santa. I really think she was spying on the present count, so luckily I hadn't added the gifts yet. I know she didn't believe in Santa but it's still fun to come downstairs on Christmas morning and see surprises.