The extreme, overwhelming excitement of Christmas! When we would go to my Grandma and Grandpa's house and get tons of presents from them and my aunts and uncles. My Grandpa would carry me down the porch steps at the end of the night, when I was half asleep, and he'd say "I'm still gonna be carrying you when you're in college, aren't I"?!? (He would die a few years later). Then we would come home so late at night, tired out of our minds, but I would be anticipating the morning and dreaming of Santa. And then the goosebumps that I felt as soon as I opened my eyes in the morning, running downstairs, seeing the mound of brightly wrapped gifts under the tree, and then running to mom and dad's room to inform them that it was time to get up. Can anything in adulthood top the excitement of Christmas morning when you still believed in Santa?