How many brunettes does it take...

Funny things happen when you put three girls in a room with a deflated air mattress.

(You may think you know where this is going, but you really have nooooo idea.)

For as long as I can remember, me and my sisters would climb into the same bed on Christmas Eve and giggle about Santa, about the presents we hoped were under the tree, about how we couldn't fall asleep, and about Kimberlie, who couldn't stop farting, until we finally passed out.

Eventually, we outgrew twin sized beds, but never outgrew the tradition.

Until I had to go and get married.

See, Corey had this strange idea that as a married couple we should start our own traditions.  "Pppsssshhh,"  I said.....or spit, actually.  But he was right, and Katie, Kimberlie and I, again, modified our tradition.  We would hold our annual Christmas Eve sleepover on Christmas Eve Eve.

This is actually where the air mattress story begins.  I just felt the need to give you way more background material than you probably wanted.  That's just what I do.

So here we are.  The three of us.  Ready to sleep, a deflated air mattress in front of us.  I should mention this air mattress requires many, many batteries to inflate (which we did not have).  Oh, or a car charger. 

Where does ass-uming get you, L.L. Bean?

Anyway, as I am ready to give up on the mattress and claim a couch, one of the two sisters (can't remember which one, they both kinda run together) has the bright idea to inflate the dang thing using a car charger.  As in a car charger in a car.  Outside.

So, we suit up and go.

...plug the thing in there.

And then that thing plugs in there.

Oops.  Wrong thing.

My feet.

Ahhh, yes.  The mattress.  Focus.

Now, to get it inside.  Snow free.

...and up the stairs.

Ahhhhhhh, success.

In short (see what I did there?  This story was in no way short...that's what makes it funny), we survived.  So did the tradition.  And the air mattress.