My favorite tradition from when I was a child, was that on Christmas Eve, my brother and I each got to pick one present to open. We waited until after dinner, and weren’t allowed to pick “the big” present, but we always had (more than) enough to choose from.

I do remember one year when we opened our presents in the afternoon, and my brother didn’t get a choice. He opened a rifle from our grandparents, and then we went out and shot it. He wasn’t allowed to shoot it again until the barrel no longer came past his waist.