7:21 am: The children arise.

7:22 am: They race downstairs.

7:25 am: They begin opening presents, having been briefly delayed by mother who wants the camera.

7:40 am: The children are confused — Santa has given them Playstation 2 games, but they don’t own a game console.

7:45 am: Toy assembly process begins. It will consume much of the morning.

8:05 am: We discover that we have the wrong batteries for two remote-control cars.

8:22 am: Three-year-old son has not let go of toy nail gun for half hour. He won’t let siblings touch.

8:45 am: Grandparents arrive, with more presents.

9:15 am: Children discover that Santa secretly set up a brand-new PS2 in the middle of night and it’s ready to go. There is much rejoicing.

9:30 am: Breakfast is served.

9:55 am: Seven-year-old son announces, “I’m bored.”

10:15 am: I call my father to wish him Merry Christmas.

11:15 am: I put NHL hockey game in new PS2.

11:25 am: I beat seven-year-old at hockey, 3-1.

11:35 am: Five-year-old daughter leaps from coffee table, spilling my coffee on family-room carpet.

11:38 am: I move my coffee to a presumably more secure location.

11:40 am: In freak mishap, the three-year-old spills my coffee.

11:41 am: I use language that’s inappropriate on this day.

1:00 pm: Father-in-law asks that PS2 be turned off so he can watch Pistons-Pacers game.

1:30 pm: Wife drives to 7-11 to purchase outrageously overpriced AAA batteries.

1:45 pm: Wife returns.

2:05 pm: Children perform demolition derby with three remote-control cars.

3:30 pm: Pistons win, 98-93. There is much rejoicing.

3:31 pm: PS2 goes back on.

3:35 pm: Seven-year-old son becomes engrossed in PS2’s “learn to play hockey” feature.

4:15 pm: He challenges me to hockey game.

4:25 pm: He wins, 9-0.

4:26 pm: I ask when dinner will be ready.

4:30 pm: Wife promises she’ll let me practice PS2 hockey after the kids are in bed.

5:40 pm: Head downstairs to blog.