Yesterday, I finally got around to doing my Christmas shopping. I dragged my mother, brother, and small-ish cousin to our local Target and set out on the ultimate adventure: Actually trying to buy things.
My mother can vouch for me: I am not a good shopper. I hate trying on stuff, I hate walking around in stores, I hate looking at stuff. I know, it’s weird for a teenage girl to not like shopping. But that’s just me.
And I’m not going to lie, It’s a lot more difficult when you’re partnered up with your 8 year old cousin as your “shopping buddy.” 8 year old boys do not enjoy shopping anymore than weird teenage girls do, and he made that abundantly clear.
Despite all of these trials, I emerged from Target victorious!… and with only $26 left to my name.
Christmas time is really the only time of year that I wrap things. Birthday presents for friends? I usually hit up my madre for those, she has a real artistic kick for things like that. But I knew the time had come for me to put my inner girly-perfectionist to work. Did I even have one of those? No matter. I must try!
Of course, you cannot start the process of gift-wrapping without soda. Soda makes anything in life easier.
I grab a present for one of my cousins; a small box of Legos. Surely this can’t be too difficult! Wrong, as usual. I put the box down on an uncut piece of wrapping paper. I measured what looked like a good amount of paper to cover the sides, and painstakingly cut the edge as perfectly as an ADD imperfectionist could (which, if you were wondering, isn’t very perfect).
I smiled triumphantly, but my glee was premature. when bringing both sides of paper together over the unassuming present, I discovered that I had cut far too small of a piece. The word “Lego” was clearly visible between the two pieces of Santa paper.
How it mocked me.
No matter, I’ll just flip the box around.
Doing this just made me realize how stupid I really was all over again. Now, all though the box was covered, the end flaps were far too long. When trying to fold them down onto the back of the package, they became bulky and fat, causing the box to be uneven and ugly.
I looked forlornly at the pile of unwrapped gifts I had left to do. There was enough left to last me hours, at the snail’s pace I was going.
As I trudged on through the small mountain of presents awaiting their wrappings, I ran into the same problems over and over again. After a good hour of blood, sweat, tears, and papercuts, I emerged from my room with a ginormous pile of lumpy objects.
This is why M should never be in charge of wrapping Christmas presents. She will probably throw a temper tantrum, or go completely crazy. Both of which are bad.