Open fire? Roaring.
Stockings? Filled and hung with care.
Cookies left for Santa? Eaten by nobody who is 'fessing up.
Last gift that I scrambled around the house for, assumed was incorrectly wrapped, looked for under all sofas until I finally, randomly decided to check the desk drawer into which I was tossing everything in sight in my mad dash pre-party cleaning Saturday? Found, wrapped and under the tree.
Bed? Yes, please.
(No, I did not really roast chestnuts. Come on, now.)