My dad wasn’t always patient when it came to Christmas gifts. He grew up opening all the gifts on Christmas Eve, whereas Mom great up opening them on Christmas Day. When it came to raising a family, somehow Mom’s traditions won out and our gifts were (almost ) always opened on Christmas morning.
However, there was a Christmases that I recall, where Dad talked my brother into the two of them opening all their gifts Christmas Eve. Mom and I sat there in protest and made tisking noises, but they continued until they were totally done. They were smiling and gloating over all their gifts, basking in what they had and what we didn’t. We just sat there and then Mom cleaned up and we went to bed.
The next morning , all my brother had was his Santa gift, but Mom and I kept going and the boys sat there, watching us have a lovely Christmas morning while all they did was sit there.
That mistake was not made again.
(Except when my brother was a teen and needed a clean shirt one December morning so opened a package that was clearly a shirt, wore it to school, then packed it back up under the tree… oh, did I just give that away…. Sorry, Brother!)