2006. Christmas morning..... at my daughter's age I would have been sitting in front of the (unopened) presents for several hours by the time my parents awoke and joined in the splendour of tearing and comparing.
Lara, however, rolled out of bed at 9am, this being due largely to her recent spell of avoiding bed-time by all means necessary, even including asking Daddy for a cuddle (now that doesn't normally happen, I think she picked that up from my wife).
Although I am a firm believer in 'the best advice is no advice' when it comes to child-rearing, a word to the wise... try and arrange the order of present-giving in reverse order of preference (as an aside, I'm sure that I only ever got an orange and half an action man for Christmas).
Lara, having recently spent 4 hours at Disney (Florida)'s Animal Kingdom asking to 'see the squirrels' (it really was 4 hours, and it was incessant), and finally having that wish granted due to a Mission Impossible quest involving chasing the bloody things around the park while being misled by the various Disney people with every assertation up to 'they don't exist', had a special bond with the tree-climbing rats. Thus, it mattered not how much had been spent on the Disney Princess bike, or how much trouble family had gone to to wrap and send various (fantastic) toys in time for Xmas, once Chip and Dale were on the DVD, all other gifts and her parents were suddenly invisible.
It was the best Christmas day in living memory.