I love Christmas. I love the sights, the sounds, the smells…even the pseudo, and slightly creepy Santas. There’s only one thing about Christmas that I hate. Despise, actually: Wrapping presents.
There are many reasons why I hate wrapping. For one, I’m awful at it. I couldn’t eyeball the adequate amount of wrapping paper to save my life, and end up with either too little or too much wrapping paper. The wrapping either ends up covering half the box, revealing the extra large store logo and appearing as if a blind two-year old wrapped it. Or I end up with too much, giving the receiver a workout as they attempt to go through a tundra of cartoon Snowmen.
I also never remember to actually purchase boxes in advance, so the present ends up being an easily distinguishable, yet extremely ugly, likely torn, blob of crumpled paper and too much scotch tape. Or I forget paper altogether, and end up decorating my gifts with Dilbert.
I’ve asked my family if I can forgo wrapping this year. They are already finished wrapping, of course, and we are already accumulating an array of neatly decorated boxes with red shiny bows under our Christmas tree. I’m the wrapping Black Sheep.
I’ll sing holiday hymns nearly immediately after Halloween, but put off wrapping the presents until Christmas Eve. Or even Christmas Day. Even worse, I don’t do it at all, and hand my gifts in the plastic bag or box that they came in. Bah Humbug.