The days of early nights on Christmas Eve have but gone now that my daughters are in the late teens, the mince pie, glass of milk and a carrot for Rudolph now replaced with parties and a late night cap but Santa still visits.
So packing the last party items in the dish washer and the children nestled all snug in their beds with visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads, and the Delightful Mrs S in her kerchief and I in my cap, we settled down for a long winter's nap.
On awaking the next morning I dropped my feet to the floor and looked down to find that at some time during the night my toenail had fallen off! A general search of the bed and floor surrounding it it remains undiscovered, I only hope that it was in fact taken by one of Santa's Little Helpers just after midnight.
Never mind, this will remain a mystery but I hope Santa has some use for it as I certainly don't apparently.