Christmas Morning in Cambodia

I had a huge appetite for sleep and a grumpy morning face as a teenager—still do. My poor sisters, six and eight years younger respectively, have bitter memories of being growled at every Christmas morning when they bounced in shortly after dawn full of Santy excitement.

But this year I’m in Cambodia, seven hours ahead of Ireland, and waiting for my family to wake up so I can call them. And at last I know how Claire and Caroline felt.

Happy Christmas, all.

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