Well my brood will be 28, 26 and 20 this Christmas but they know mommabear loves Christmas on a Zoella scale so they humour me. On Christmas Eve they (including partners that may be there) STILL have a bath, new PJs, put out Rudolph magic food (oats and glitter) read Twas the Night Before Christmas and are in bed by 10pm.
Once asleep (no peeking or he wont come) Santa arrives and leaves magic footprints from the fire to the tree (flour and glitter and the other half in wellies, stomping around the room grumbling "im not hoovering this tit up)) and then the door to the room gets gift wrapped so no-one can come down and have a cheeky sneak peak. The lovely children then get me up at 5am "He's Been!" (i say Children, its me, with Jingle bells)
The only difference is; rather than dash downstairs i receive a few expletives and then they dash downstairs and instead of having to build barbie houses and scalextrix they play drinking roulette and are wrecked by 10am, they refuse to come to Mass with me and see baby Jesus and then the rest of the day I am in the kitchen (also wrecked) ruining a turkey and dancing to Now Christmas! 5pm everyone has passed out.
8pm wake up to watch 'Enders and crack open the baileys. Drinking games resume.
Bliss. I frigging LOVE it.