“Yeah, and you?”

“Uh, uh.”

“I can’t stop thinking about Christmas. What do you suppose Santa brought us?”

“I’m hoping for some Eddie Money tickets.”

“Yeah, that sounds neat. I think I’m gonna get a few Guns ‘N Roses T-shirts, and maybe a couple of CDs like Insane Clown Posse or Meat Puppets. Do you think we’ll get any money this year?”

“I hope so. I’d really like to buy tickets for Will Hoge and P.J. Harvey.”

“Hey in there! Can you keep it down? We’re trying to sleep.”

“Here that? He sounded mad. You better be quiet.”

“Me? You’re the one making the noise. But how can anyone sleep on Christmas Eve? All I can think of is Everlast CDs, Aaron Carter tickets and maybe even a Biohazard lunch box.”

“That would be so cool. I was thinking of getting a…”

“I told you to keep quiet in there. Now shut up and go to sleep!”

“Sounds angry, doesn’t he?”

“Forget about him. Christmas morning is just a few hours away. You know, maybe Santa’s giving out music videos this year. I wouldn’t mind getting that video by Robbie Williams for Christmas .”

“Or Pantera and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. Do you suppose…”

“I said to go back to sleep. I don’t want to hear another peep out of you two.”

“Sounds like he means it.”

“Who cares? It’s Christmas. Hey, maybe we’ll get one of those MP3 players.”

“Yeah, like that one that straps onto your back and can hold up to 5 million songs. We could load it up with Offspring, Papa Roach and Deftones.”

“And Motorhead.”

“That would be so…”

“Are you two gonna shut up? I’m warning you for the last time. Don’t make me come in there.”

“Sheesh. What a grouch.”

“Yeah, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault? What did I do?”

“You were the one who wanted kids.”