How a husband and wife share Christmas chores while having a sexy night together.

Guest blogger NorEastMom:

My husband and I have always battled about the Christmas "to do" list. I have never been able to convince him to help out too much with the shopping lists, card writing or present wrapping. He doesn't really see all of it as necessary, particularly the card writing, and feels if I have such a need to keep in touch with people I can be in charge of that mess. As many of you know, it's always a struggle to get it all done, and I'm the one who ends up stressed, while my husband says ... from the couch ... with an egg nog, "Baby, you should relax and enjoy the holidays."

So a few years ago, I came up with a solution that would please us both ... an unwrapping party. First, we get a bottle of wine, some blankets, and a nice fire going. Then, I bring up all the presents that need to be wrapped. We begin our favorite holiday movie, Billy Bob Thornton's "Bad Santa," and we get to work.

Oh, I forgot to mention, all the while I am dressed like a really slutty Christmas elf. I tie bows to every body part that will take one, get the fur hat, the works. Why? Because for every present he wraps, he gets to "unwrap" me. Of course I get to do the same, which is why last year my husband wore three pairs of socks to the game. Oh, we also throw in a drinking game, usually "Drink when you hear Billy Bob say the F-word" or "drink when the fat kid says 'sandwich'" or something like that. Before trying this at home, you should know the movie and your alcohol tolerance. This is not a PG flick, folks.

OK, its very childish. So what? By the end of the night we are usually hysterically laughing, quite toasted, and some of our kids' presents are soaked in booze. Add to that the constant fear of our kids coming down to see the worst: exposed presents and exposed parents. What a moment that would be: mommy wearing candy-cane tights and a fur bra, and daddy in nothing except a pair of Rudolph socks, wrestling for the roll of tape, while John Ritter says the word "f--kstick" on the TV. Yes, Christmas could be ruined at that moment. But at least we had fun, and I got my husband to wrap a few damn presents.