Christmas Countdown by Susannah McFarlane

It was hot, hot, even for December. The dry, gusty wind blew long into the evening. All the windows in the Jacks’ house were open, waiting for the cool change to blow through.
    The heat made it hard to sleep but that wasn’t the only reason Emma Jacks was tossing and turning in her bed. It was just three days until Christmas and she could barely contain her excitement. She lay awake, the smell of the Christmas tree wafting down the hallway reminding her about all those presents under it, particularly the ones for her. Emma couldn’t stop thinking about them. Finally she couldn’t resist taking another look. She got out of bed and crept down the hallway. Inky, her black cat, followed her. Emma made it to the tree undetected and crouched down in front of all the brightly wrapped presents. Inky played with some wrapping ribbon. Reaching out for a large, square box in green wrapping with red stars, Emma was just giving it a preliminary shake when …
    â€˜Emma! You’re not feeling those presents again, are you?’
    Aaaaarrgghh! How did her mum know she was there?
    â€˜Me?’ cried Emma, quickly putting the present back under the tree. ‘I’m just untangling some ribbon from Inky’s paw.’
    â€˜Well do that and then go back to bed,’ her mum called out. ‘And no more feeling the presents!’
    Emma slunk back to bed but she was still too excited to sleep. She did love the presents but it wasn’t just them that got her excited about Christmas. It was the whole feeling that was in the air in the days before. It was family coming over, sometimes from other states and other countries. It was the getting ready—the cooking and the decorating of the house and the tree. And, yes, it was the presents. But it wasn’t just getting them, it was making lists of what people might like, people sneaking off into bedrooms for secret wrapping moments and Bob, her brother, joking that he had bought Emma a wooden spoon (at least Emma hoped he was joking).
    Jokes were another part of Christmas that Emma looked forward to. They were one of many family traditions, the same things done every year. Emma even loved the boring ones. Like the Christmas tree and all the family rules about when it could be decorated. The tree could not come into the house until a week before Christmas Eve.
    â€˜You can’t have the tree up before you finish school,’ Dad always said. ‘That would be ridiculous. When I was a child …’
    Emma had heard all this before. The whole family had. Her dad was from Sweden and in his family they only bought the tree the day before Christmas Eve. Her mum was born in Australia and her family used to put it up about two weeks before. So the Jacks family had agreed on a middle ground and put their tree up one week before Christmas Eve. Even though she heard it every December, Emma liked the story; she liked knowing how things came to be the way they were.
    There were also rules about decorating the tree, again mainly from Emma’s dad, who let everyone know that because Sweden had Christmas in winter, he was the Christmas expert.
    â€˜I mean, you guys have Christmas in a swimming pool!’ he teased. ‘And in Sweden we live closer to Father Christmas. He doesn’t even need a sleigh pulled by reindeer to get to us!’
    â€˜Well, we have Christmas Day before you,’ replied Emma’s mum, laughing. ‘So you just follow us.’
    Emma loved this squabble. It was the same every year with perhaps a few changes, a few additions, a few improved arguments. Because she and Bob were half-Swedish, half-Australian they just sat back and enjoyed the best of both worlds, including having two Christmas dinners! They had Swedish Christmas on Christmas Eve where they would light candles (even though it was still light outside) and have the traditional Swedish Christmas table, a smorgasbord of meatballs and ham and specially cooked fish