When I was younger, we almost never made it to my grandparents place for Christmas (both sets lived 12 hours drive away, and my mother does NOT travel well.) Mom and Dad would take pictures of us on christmas morning and mail them out with our thank you notes. Well, by the time I was four, my Grandmothers had gotten tired of seeing me on the fridge in whatever ratty jammies I'd gone to bed in on Christmas Eve.
Grandma A was a seamstress, so she made me a pair of nice red and white jammies and told my parents I had to wear them Christmas eve. The pictures turned out so nice, that the other
Grandma (Grandma B) kept up the tradition, sending us pajamas for our Christmas Eve present. It was the only gift we were allowed to open, and we always knew it was pajamas, but still we never knew exactly what she'd found (she didn't sew, so they were store bought).
It didn't always work out, like the hot pink silk nightgown that had an unexpectedly low V neck (I wore a black shirt underneath, and my mother teased her over the phone about it. She'd not noticed, just thought the colour was nice LOL) but the pictures always looked good enough for the fridge, so both Grandma's were happy.
Our other tradition was we were not allowed out of bed till 7, and then could only open the stocking. Presents had to wait till after we'd had breakfast. (And yes, they tortured us by making waffles and bacon instead of letting us eat toast, haha).