I remember an afternoon of my senior year in high school, a couple of weeks before Christmas. I had it all that year. I had a job. I had spending money. I had a car. I had a drugstore selling holo-sparkle wrapping paper just down the road. I bought four rolls of the paper and ribbon to match.
I didn’t finish using those four rolls of paper until I was done with grad school almost ten years later. There were a lot of things in my life then, but people to give Christmas presents to wasn’t really one of them. One thing for mom. One thing for dad. In my freshman year of college I made polar fleece hats and mittens for my new friends, mostly so I could use some of that wrapping paper.
I would use one sacred afternoon to wrap a half-dozen boxes and address a dozen cards.
Those days are over.
From Pinterest, I have learned that there are four stages of life:
1) You believe in Santa
2) You don’t believe in Santa
3) You are Santa
4) You look like Santa
I’m in stage 3 right now. And boy howdy. Gift wrapping has been a frantic thing, done in every spare moment, every box a victory, every nap time a mountain of boxes to be conquered. I think I will get all of the wrapping done, I’m just not sure I’ll get all the cookies baked in time to pack up Christmas packages and get them mailed. I am keeping my fingers crossed.
You’re right, kiddo. That is one shining pile of gifts under one beautiful Christmas tree. Thank you so much for giggling the first time you saw them. And no, you can’t open even one until December 25.
