Just so you know, I did not make this story. I saw it for the second time on Reddit and it reminded me to post it here. The first time I saw it was going to, but I just kept forgetting. I read it today and remembered. So here it is.

When I was little, Christmas was my absolute favorite holiday. I didn't really like all the visiting relatives and their invasive kissing, but I loved the suspense of the encroaching Christmas morning and the presents.
One Christmas Day, when I was about 7, I woke up at about 3 am. It wasn't unusual or anything; all kids wake up a few times before Christmas morning. That night, I decided to get up and check to see if Santa had came yet. I walked downstairs and was halfway down the steps when I looked over at the Christmas tree and saw something. It was my parents. I could recognize them by their bathrobes, which were illuminated in the pitch dark just enough to see by the dim lights of the Christmas tree. They were standing next to the tree, back to me, just looming over it.
Usually, I would have called out to them and asked what they were doing. But seeing them just standing there, in silence, backs hunched slightly, over the Christmas tree sent shivers up my spine.
I decided that I didn't want to know what they were doing and instead went as quietly as I could back up the steps and turned down the long hallways into my room.
I noticed that the light in my room was on, however. I saw some shadows growing on the floor outside my open door; shadows of whoever was in there. What I saw next made my heart drop.
My parents came out of my room. They both came over to me and scolded me for getting out of bed, reminding me that "Santa doesn't come unless you're asleep in bed!"
To this day, I still have no idea what it was the two figures I saw next to the tree were.