Christmas Morning

Jax groaned after looking at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. It was six fifty in the morning, and his parents had refused to wake up any time before seven. They’d even locked their door, ensuring that Jax would not get in early and wake them up.

Five minutes passed, and Jax felt as though he would explode from the excitement he was holding in. He wanted to run and jump on their bed, tell them to wake up so he could open all the presents that were waiting for him under the tree. He’d been staring at it for the last hour and a half, willing it to somehow make time go faster.

Just then, his older sister ambled in, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was nineteen and clearly not as excited as Jax.

She sat next to him and, after three minutes had passed, told him they wouldn’t care if he woke them up two minutes early.

He grinned, jumping up from his spot on the floor and running down the hall to his parent’s bedroom. He knocked for what seemed like hours on the door, until, finally, his mother opened the door, a tired look on her face. She pushed him away from the door, telling him to wait until they got dressed. She kissed his forehead, then shut the door, effectively locking him out for a few more minutes.

When his parents slowly made their way into the living room five minutes later, Jax was bouncing his knee and his sister was curled up in their dad’s chair, her eyes closed and soft snores coming from her mouth.

When his mother handed Jax the first present, a square one wrapped in blue wrapping paper and adorned with a bright silver, glittery bow, Jax squealed. He quickly tore into the thing, grinning when he saw the remote control car he’d been hinting at for the last three months.

An hour later found Jax sitting on the floor, a chocolate Santa in his mouth and his fingers nimbly moving the car around the room, taking extra care not to bump it into anything.