Kelly is wired. She reminds me every few minutes that tomorrow is Christmas. I tried telling her that due to a labor shortage, Christmas had to be postponed until the weekend. She was rather cross with me over that.
Then I tried a different tack:
Me: Did you remember to pay the Christmas tax?
Me: Did you remember to apply for your Christmas Visitation License?
Kelly: Yes. It's hanging on the wall in the living room where Santa Claus can see it.
Jean (from the kitchen): Don't forget we have to put out the milk and cookies too!
Me: I've heard that Santa is trying to lose some weight. He's asked people to offer him a glass of red wine and a bowl of grapes now instead.
Kelly: Da-ad! No he doesn't!
Me: But I still think he'd appreciate something else. Maybe an apple or some cheese?
Kelly: Uh huh. We could put some cheese on the plate for him, sliced flat. One half of the plate would be cookies, the other half would be cheese.
Things just kept getting sillier from there, but you get the idea. Earlier Jean asked me if 6am would be okay for getting up, or should we make Kelly wait until 6:30? I commented that given the choice between 11 lashes with a whip and 12, I'd still complain about receiving 11. I'm going to try finding excuses to wake Kelly up a few times before midnight. She doesn't like this idea, as she thinks Santa won't come, but I told her "He knows when you are sleeping, remember?" Somehow that creeped her out, and she yelled at me. Oh well. I don't think I'll be able to force myself to bed early enough to compensate, so I've got dibs on a nap tomorrow.