Gift Wrapping for Idiots

Wrap It Up!

Last week in Dan’s Papers was a very nice article suggesting how to create a wrapping zone in your home for gift wrapping.

First, find an area, it could be a room or a corner, that you can designate as your Wrapping Zone. I found a perfect spot. I cleared away the clutter and began getting organized.
“Mom, what are you doing with all my stuff?’
“I need this space, Jake, for wrapping Christmas presents.”
“But this is my study area. I need the laptop and my school stuff. Don’t you want me to get good grades for college?” he asked - like I’m gonna give up my Wrapping Zone for that...
“You know I’m really sick of this, ‘my children are my life crap’. You need to understand my needs. My gift wrapping skills are horrific. Gifts from me look like they were wrapped by KoKo the Gorilla. You’ll be leaving home next year, but I’ll still have to wrap gifts - ever think of that?”
“Oh, I see Mom, improving your gift wrapping skills so you can impress people with fancy paper and fluffy bows is more important than my educational needs?”
“I’m glad you understand, son.”
“No, Mom! I was kidding! How can you be so shallow?”
“Listen, all my friends bring beautifully wrapped gifts to all our social occasions. The paper is folded right, the bows match and a good wrap job increases the perceived value of a cheap gift by 32%.”
“Is that what you’re about now, Mom? Impressing people? When did you become a Martha Stewart wannabe?”
“I was born a Martha Stewart wannabe. I’ve lived my life looking like the top graduate of the Helen Keller School of Home Decorating. Tasteful gift wrapping is my first step on the long road of rehabilitation from ludicrous to lovely.”
“If I give up my space, is there a stop somewhere on this road where you stop buying everything that’s red? We have a red couch, red dishes, red bath towels, everything's red Mom. Are you going to buy anything in Martha Stewart colors? You know, those soothing muted tones....”
“Yes, there is a stop for that, Jake. It’s a little further down the road.”
“How far?”
“Somewhere around your thirtieth birthday I think.”
“Forget it. I’m keeping my study space.”

I had no choice but to adapt and overcome.
“Where are you going with the all the wrapping stuff, Mom?”
“I’m taking over the back seat of the car for wrapping.”
“Sounds good. What’s the lunch box and flashlight for?”
“Because I’m gonna be out there all day and all night, Jake. “
“It won’t work, Mom, I don’t feel guilty.”
“Do me a favor, son, keep an eye on the weather report. If I’m out there in the freezing cold too long, come and get me.”
“I’ll bring you a blanket and I still won’t feel guilty.”
“And bring some hot water in case the scissors freeze to my hands.”
“Creative, but it’s still not working.”
“Be sure to feed the cats, answer the phone and if it’s your grandmother, you have to talk to her for as long as she wants to talk to you.”
“I’ll bring you the phone, it’s cordless.”
“I’m really not trying to guilt trip you, son. I don’t expect anything for birthing your nine pound self. I don’t mind that the doctor had to use a crowbar. I don’t mind the years of watching mind numbing Disney videos followed by your Godzilla obsession. I don’t mind putting your needs ahead of mine everyday of my life until just now when I wanted a chance at wrapping a pretty present.”
“I’m glad you don’t mind, Mom, cause I don’t mind years of listening to you nearly sing on key, listening to you whine and yammer that I never talk to you, cutting my hair to save money, enduring your ability to get lost in a parking lot, watching you screw up phone numbers and check books constantly because of your dyslexia, oh, and you never got me a dog.”
“Geeeeezzzz...you are good at guilt tripping, Jake... I feel just terrible.....”
“I learned from the best. Close the door on your way out, Mom.”

When Christmas Shopping really meant something....

Flying Fingers vs. Frozen Feet

Well, it’s official, I did all of my holiday shopping by internet this year and everything is being gift wrapped and sent straight from the source along with a printed gift card from me limited to 100 characters.

It’s wonderfully convenient to shop by internet. At the same time, I recognize the end of a era for me and one that my kids will never know... the Christmas (and Hanukah, relax...) shopping days at a big mall.

I recall when I was young, listening to my mother, grandmother and aunt coordinate what day were we going shopping. Next, came the car selection. My aunt had the most reliable car, my grandmother had the one with the biggest trunk and my mother had the one with the best heater. Biggest trunk usually won out. We all brought blankets and piled into my grandmother’s old Buick. The heater had broken years earlier and my grandfather, who courted my grandmother on a horse drawn buckboard, saw a car heater as an unnecessary luxury. The back seat of the Buick was huge and my mother and aunt discussed building a small fire there for warmth. But the idea was vetoed because the ring of stones would surely shift while Grammie drove. So we toughed it out.

The goal was to get there early in the morning, if you could hear the mall music from your parking spot, you did well. But my aunt was (and is) notoriously late, so we always parked within sight of the mall. In that day, women never left the house in slacks, we were all in dresses. As a kid I got to wear leggings under my skirt, but my Mom, Aunt and Gram had to endure the cold with only nylons to keep their legs warm. Gram had a sealskin coat, but she was still frozen by the time we got to the front door of the nearest store.

The mall music blared with seasonal standards, we, and everyone around us, would softly sing along. It was crowded. Our coats were now a heavy encumbrance. We waded through people who were wading through us. We shopped for hours and piled our cart high. We waited in long, long lines for checkout. Everyone in line struggled to maintain a good attitude despite tired feet and crying kids.

After the shopping we schlepped all our big, colorful, bags to any place in the mall where we could sit and have hot chocolate, a final warm-up before we braved the cold again. My Mom, Gram and Aunt would try to remember exactly where we had entered the mall and try to figure out if there was an exit closer to the car. Global warming was nowhere in sight then. Winter was freezing cold everyday from mid November till March and that was that. The post-shopping walk, tired and package laden, was a real killer with icy winds whipping up your skirt, like getting goosed with freezing fingers. It was not unusual for my Grandmother to carry a flask of Baileys and add a shot to everyone’s hot chocolate (except mine, I was still under 13) as a bracer to the cold. Today, that would be outrageous, but it was not an issue at all when I was young. People had a shot to warm them up. They didn’t get drunk and they weren’t alcoholics. It was even the custom on our street to leave a shot in the mailbox on Christmas Eve for our mailman, Mr. Brady. Poor Mr. Brady. He was probably crocked by the time he got home, but I guarantee he wasn’t cold...

After we got home and hid everything in Grammies attic. My grandfather, who liked to cook, would have some hearty soup and Irish soda bread ready for us. He made hot buttered rum and smell of it was sweet and comforting. Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole records were stacked and playing on the stereo while we ate hot soup and reveled in our gift choices.

My grandfather grilled my grandmother on how much she had spent. Grammie was able to show him the sale prices marked in red on each tag. My aunt and I used different red pens to carefully mark down all those tags on the ride home... I knew I was growing up when I was trusted to maintain a poker face when Pop looked at the price tags.

Holiday shopping together is a bonding event for women. Like men who hunt together. There is something about braving overwhelming odds and surviving that unites people.

Here’s to all our Moms with frozen legs and feet, bad mall music, and hot chocolate with Baileys!

Sounds of the Season...

Things you hear at Christmas time...


“WHERE ARE THE DECORATIONS?”

“We had Christmas with your family last year, this year is my families turn.”

“Why are toys so expensive? I never got this much!”

“Why should I spend $80 for a toy? They’re just gonna climb in the box and play in it all day.”

“I just can’t send cards to everyone anymore. Between the cards and stamps, sheesh...I’m just gonna send to family and our closest friends.”

“Why do they always put the gorgeous paper that I want next to the only blah paper that I can afford?”

“We’ve got to clean this house...and you’re all helping! STOP! Don’t run for that door! Get back here you cowards! Get back in here all of you! George! Get out of the car! You get those kids back in here!”

“Hi Mom, it’s me. The coast is clear. I asked for help cleaning the house, George and the kids disappeared...seventeen seconds...I think it’s a new record. You and Dad can bring over the presents now. I got wrapping and bows, can you bring tape?”

“No, there is no acceptable Rap version of White Christmas. Put down the Bing Crosby record and move away from the stereo...”

“Who erased the Charlie Brown Christmas from the Tivo? It’s not stupid. It’s traditional. That’s right, you watched it when you were two and you’ll watch it again when I’m ready and you’ll like it.... Because it puts Mom and me in the Christmas spirit, that’s why. Fifteen is not too old to watch it, neither is fifty. ”

“Brad, since your car can find the liquor store with or without you driving, will you get me some rum on your next trip? Huh? For rum balls and fruitcake. Okay, then get two bottles. No, we’re not going to drink a bottle of Captain Morgan. We’re not playing pirate and slave girl on Christmas Eve. No, I don’t care if you put a bow on it, the answer is no..... I know, but that was when we were young and childless. If we do that in front of the fireplace now we’ll scare off the reindeer and your back will be out for a week.”

“Regifting is only for those who can keep track of who gave them the gift in the first place, Karen. You don’t want to give somebody the same gift they gave you. Well, think... who would give you a cookbook? ...Of course Mom. Right, so you can’t give that to her for Christmas. No...I don’t think the black nightgown that Benny gave you would work for Mom. Husbands freak if they see their Mother-in-laws in sexy nightgowns. Better put her on the list of people who are getting new gifts this year.”

“Joe, tell your brother to stop teaching the kids to stuff minimarshmellows up their nose. Why? Because he’s YOUR brother! My family doesn’t do that...we should go to my Mothers this year.”

“Because it’s an Island tradition to go to the tree lighting....it’s not lame... when you’re grown, you’ll remember it fondly. Well, there’s a few people who sing in tune, but that’s not the point. The point is that everyone sings. You won’t be embarrassed. Just sing out. The angels will rearrange the notes on the way up. By the time the carol reaches heaven, it’ll be beautiful. Yes. I do have an answer for everything. Now put on your coat and get in the car. You can get a head start on complaining about the cold.”