Oh, there's no place like
home for the holidays,
'Cause no matter how far away you roam
When you pine for the sunshine
Of a friendly face
For the holidays, you can't beat
Home, sweet home
Oh there's no place like home
For the holidays, 'cause no matter
How far away you roam
If you want
To be happy in a million ways
For the holidays, you can't beat
Home, sweet home
"Hey, hey, Germany! Wake up!"
Germany opened his eyes wearily to see Italy stood over him, beaming. To a half-asleep Germany, it wasn't a very happy sight, and he immediately jumped out of bed and put his fists up. "I swear, if you- oh, it's you, Italy. It's a bit early, don't you think?"
One look at Italy's pale, scrunched-up face and Germany regretted his hasty decision. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I thought you were a threat, huh..." He took a moment to pause. "Sorry, Italy. So, what was it you were going to-"
"IT'SCHRISTMASEVETOMORROW!"
And he was grinning againg, his eyes wide, his hands in the air, his voice too loud and fast to comphrehend. "Wait, what? I can't understand you-"
"IT'SCHRISTMASEVETOMORROW, WOOHOO!" It was a little slower, but incomphrehensible nonetheless.
"Italy, speak properly! I can't hear you!"
Now it was Italy's turn to be confused, tilting his head a little on habit. "What? But I always speak like that! It's Christmas Eve tomorrow, silly!"
Germany stood in silence before sighing. "Oh. That. I bet you're excited, then?"
"Yesyesyesyesyes! America's invited us all to a giant Christmas Eve party, remember? And big brother will be coming over with Prussia and Austria and Spain and everyone on Christmas Day! And Santa will visit me and give me lots of presents! And maybe Grandpa Rome will come, I have no idea! Are you excited, Germany?!"
"Yes."
"Well, come on then, what are you waiting for? We have to prepare the food and stuff! And you're the most greatest cook ever, Germany! Especially with cake! Mmmmm, cake! Come on, come on, come on!"