1) You are awoken by your eldest at 5:14am. She announces "there is still a star out but I ignored it". F*cking useless gro clock.
2) Your daughter kindly awakes your son at 6:01am. He runs in and you expect a full rendition of "Happy Birthday deaaaaarrrrrr Mummy". Instead what you get is someone shouting something about a tablet.
3) You get led downstairs by your children. You're excited! You realise quite quickly you don't actually get to open your own presents.
4) Your children open your presents. Or. Tell you what each present is e.g "this is another pair of slippers""that Mummy is a Yankee Candle".
5) Your two lovely bags of your favourites sweets are hastily opened. To shove in your children's mouths to stop them ruining each surprise. There is an impromptu and quite violent fight over a balloon.
6) Your presents include slippers, pyjamas, socks, smellies and seven candles. Worryingly you are over the moon at such an array of predictable 'Mum' gifts. You're just a bit sad you got no new pants.
7) Your husband gives you the greatest gift of all. Better than Chanel, better than diamonds. He says he will do the school run and gives you the gift of time!
8) Now...what to do with this time? Of course you light one of your new Yankee Candles. Pop open some smellies and get in a bath. For some this is normal. For the common Mum? A f*cking luxury. There is Buck's Fizz involved. You feel all squiffy and decide you love your husband immensely (ignoring the screams, howls and fighting downstairs). YOU SHAVE YOUR ACTUAL LEGS! You consider you bikini line. But hey it's not Christmas yet!
9) Bath done. And you embrace the joy that is new jazzy socks and... Brand. New. Slippers!!!!! They aren't smelly. They aren't a bit stained. And for the next 14 minutes at least they won't have a raisin stuck to the sole.