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December 9, 2021
Christmas Rap
By Mikie Baker
The Bandera Prophet
Now that all the decorations I felt like putting up are up, it’s time to move on to the wrapping phase of this holiday season. I’ve wrapped so many presents over the years, I feel like I deserve my own Hallmark movie, “Sylvia becomes unwrapped under the Christmas Tree.”
Let’s talk about gift wrapping for a moment, shall we? As a child, I was oblivious to the fact that men can’t wrap presents. At least any I’ve ever known. That’s why they invented the Christmas Bag. Just pop something in a happily decorated bag, slap a piece of tissue paper on the top and voila! You’ve got a gift.
My father couldn’t even manage that. Knowing that my mother waited until Christmas Eve to wrap presents because her deadline had finally hit, my dad opted to make me wrap my own presents so at least there would be something under the tree. He’d hand me a brown paper sack taped together with a present inside. I’d slap it in a box, wrap it, put a bow on it and hand deliver it back to him so he could write a hint on the tag. We always did funny hints with our presents – things like, “It’s not socks!” when inside would be socks.
I never looked at one present I wrapped because I like surprises too much.
When I was in high school, one of my good friends got a job wrapping presents at a fancy department store. I went up to check it out and was amazed at how beautifully she wrapped everything. Of course, it’s not hard when you have expensive paper that will actually crease instead of rip, yards of perfect bow tying ribbon and scads of double stick tape. I decided right then and there I would wrap gifts perfectly forever.
That didn’t last long.
Then there were the salad days when I had the perfect thing all women fantasize over: A designated wrapping/storage area holding (sigh) perfect paper, tissue and bows to wrap anything for anyone at any time. Birthday? Got it. Baby Shower? Pink or blue? Anniversary? If it’s the 10th, 20th, or 30th, I’ve got your back. And I’ve got sharp scissors, too.
But having a room just for wrapping never lasts forever. It’s just too perfect and no one but Martha Stewart can keep that up. That’s because she has a band of minions at her every beck and call. Me? I’ve got a band of misfits that love to rip up wrapping paper.
These days I’m down to storing all my wrapping paper, boxes and supplies under the bed. This location is certainly out of the way, but it forces me to get down on my hands and knees just to wrap a gift. I like to think the reason I wrap sitting on the floor is just to prove I can still get up off the floor when I’m done. I call it Tai Wrapchi. And it’s a great way to dust under the bed.
I’m trying to wait until most all my presents are in and have a really long jam session with my paper, boxes and bows. And when I’m done, I’ll pull out all those Christmas bags so My Future Husband can sit down in a chair and wrap up everything for me because I’m an only child and I deserve presents.
And then Rod the Rock Star will take his sharp little claws and unwrap everything for us long before Christmas. Happy Holidays!
Let’s talk about gift wrapping for a moment, shall we? As a child, I was oblivious to the fact that men can’t wrap presents. At least any I’ve ever known. That’s why they invented the Christmas Bag. Just pop something in a happily decorated bag, slap a piece of tissue paper on the top and voila! You’ve got a gift.
My father couldn’t even manage that. Knowing that my mother waited until Christmas Eve to wrap presents because her deadline had finally hit, my dad opted to make me wrap my own presents so at least there would be something under the tree. He’d hand me a brown paper sack taped together with a present inside. I’d slap it in a box, wrap it, put a bow on it and hand deliver it back to him so he could write a hint on the tag. We always did funny hints with our presents – things like, “It’s not socks!” when inside would be socks.
I never looked at one present I wrapped because I like surprises too much.
When I was in high school, one of my good friends got a job wrapping presents at a fancy department store. I went up to check it out and was amazed at how beautifully she wrapped everything. Of course, it’s not hard when you have expensive paper that will actually crease instead of rip, yards of perfect bow tying ribbon and scads of double stick tape. I decided right then and there I would wrap gifts perfectly forever.
That didn’t last long.
Then there were the salad days when I had the perfect thing all women fantasize over: A designated wrapping/storage area holding (sigh) perfect paper, tissue and bows to wrap anything for anyone at any time. Birthday? Got it. Baby Shower? Pink or blue? Anniversary? If it’s the 10th, 20th, or 30th, I’ve got your back. And I’ve got sharp scissors, too.
But having a room just for wrapping never lasts forever. It’s just too perfect and no one but Martha Stewart can keep that up. That’s because she has a band of minions at her every beck and call. Me? I’ve got a band of misfits that love to rip up wrapping paper.
These days I’m down to storing all my wrapping paper, boxes and supplies under the bed. This location is certainly out of the way, but it forces me to get down on my hands and knees just to wrap a gift. I like to think the reason I wrap sitting on the floor is just to prove I can still get up off the floor when I’m done. I call it Tai Wrapchi. And it’s a great way to dust under the bed.
I’m trying to wait until most all my presents are in and have a really long jam session with my paper, boxes and bows. And when I’m done, I’ll pull out all those Christmas bags so My Future Husband can sit down in a chair and wrap up everything for me because I’m an only child and I deserve presents.
And then Rod the Rock Star will take his sharp little claws and unwrap everything for us long before Christmas. Happy Holidays!