Sunday 15th September

Christmas is bad enough, but at least you are sort of prepared for it.  Well, you do have 365 days notice of the wretched event.  As children of course, you just cannot wait to tear open the paper and get to the present, with absolutely no consideration for the adult who has assiduously chosen the paper, and wrapped your presents.  Even as adults there is that anticipatory moment as you pick the parcel up, weighing it, a slight shake to see if it rattles, maybe a squeeze to see it is a jumper, (or the dreaded socks and scarf) before you open, what is invariably somewhat of a disappointment.

Life is complicated enough, dashing to Walton or France every few weeks, without birthdays.  In August I had three.  Yes, three lots of presents to source, to buy, to cart home and then to wrap.  And the cards to buy and write and post.

This month there are two more, and squeezing the birthday visit into my busy schedule is not easy either.  And again, here I am, two sheets of wrapping paper laid on the carpet and sellotaped precariously together to go around yet another big toy for yet another grandchild.  And then the tape sticks to the wrong bit of paper, and when you lift it ever so gingerly it still removes a bit of the pattern.  So you cut off little strips of sellotape and line them up half stuck to the edge of the glass-topped coffee table, but before you can retrieve them and stick all those awkward flaps down they have somehow curled up on themselves and are useless.  You reach for the roll and discover that the sellotape has now stuck itself down, and despite running your fingernail all the way around cannot find where it starts.  And when you do find it all you get is a thin strip a quarter of an inch wide.  In the end the parcel looks hopelessly badly wrapped, but at this point you simply couldn’t care less.

And it is all worth it, when you see little Sam’s eyes open with happiness as he rips the paper away to discover his toy.  Of course, I could just go down the lazy route and buy birthday bags, but where is the fun in that.  So, I end up seeming to spend an inordinate amount of my time endlessly wrapping presents.