Tjuefemte desember:
USA:
There was really one day a year that Alfred F. Jones would get up early, and that day was Christmas Eve.
At 4.30 a.m. he bounced down the stairs and tore into the wrapping paper until he'd two piles: gifts and wrapping paper.
Author's notes:
I forgot to mention in the last chapter: For everyone who gets their gifts on Christmas Eve, I hope you were satisfied with your gifts. I know I was.
Now, for those of you who got their gifts on Christmas Day: I hope you were satisfied too.
6 chapters to go.
I don't own Hetalia