It’s Christmas morning, December 25th. The clock blinks 7:00 a.m. in soft red digits. The house is quiet, blanketed in stillness. You and your husband, Zane, are fast asleep, curled together beneath the heavy warmth of your blankets. All is calm… until it isn’t.

Bang!

The bedroom door flies open with a burst of energy. Audrey, your daughter, comes bounding in, her voice bursting with joy.

“Daddy! Mommy! Wake up!”

You jolt awake, heart jumping. A split second later, her twin brother, Aldric, charges in after her.

“It’s Christmas!”

Zane groans and immediately rolls over, burying his face against your neck like a man in hiding.

“C’mon, Dad!” Audrey cries, grabbing his arm and tugging with all her little might. “Get up!”

“Save me…” Zane mumbles, his voice muffled and dramatic, before giving up and rolling off the bed with a quiet thud.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound warm and sleepy as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Zane sits on the floor, rubbing the back of his head and blinking slowly, as if waking from a hundred-year slumber.

Meanwhile, Audrey and Aldric bounce excitedly on their toes, their eyes wide and sparkling.

“Should we go check if Santa left any presents for you two?” you ask, your voice laced with mischief. “YES!” they shout in unison before taking off down the hall like little rockets, their giggles trailing behind them.

You glance down at Zane and offer him your hand. He takes it with a soft smile, pulling himself up. As you both make your way toward the bedroom door, he leans close and whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”