Suzanne had a pictoral up a few weeks ago: A Tutorial for The Wrapping Challenged.
I skimmed through it and sighed, envious of her sharp corners and neat folds. Really, she does a lovely job.
Today, ALL DAY, I've been wrapping things. Big presents. Odd-shaped presents. Weeny little ones. My mood has been lowering with each press of the paper and each whhhiiink! of the scotch tape. The children wanted to wrap their presents* to their aunts and uncles (note to K: you DO have sharp scissors, right? Because our boy thinks tape is a condiment) and I started to growl instructions.
'This will actually work better if you do one side at a time! Look, it's wrinkling! Umm, could you PLEASE make the gift card while I try to (salvage) make this a little more....tidy?' (note to K: Rosey wrote the names on a lot of things. Good luck. I'll be in the corner, rocking back and forth....)
Then I realized I still need to get a few things and commenced whamming my head on the the desk to the beat of 'White Christmas.'
whimper. Next year it's going to be gift cards for everybodyyyyyyy (whump)
So I've now decided that I don't like Suzanne any more**, because she's not sharing the obviously pharmaceutically superior drugs she must be on to actually enjoy this @#$%*&^ chore.
I'm feeling a bit Scroogish, actually. I can feel my eyebrows beginning to beetle.
Or is that bits of errant scotch tape??
* The tradition is that Cass and Rosey pick out their gifts to their relatives themselves. I do guide them a bit on price and content (so the aunts and uncles don't all get Barbies and Matchbox cars) but the decisions? Are theirs.
**Big mwah to S.