The One Roll of Wrapping Paper

I like paper (I think that's been established) and I like to do things with paper.  For many years I would spend hours and hours wrapping gifts in ways that made the wrapping itself look more like the present than what was inside.  I would make a shirt box look like a tuxedo.  I could add flair with three different papers and diagonal folds on a package.  I was even adept at wrapping cylinders and making the final product look good, which is a heck of a trick.

At this point, I'm more about getting the wrapping done while the children are still napping because once they're awake, nothing useful other than children things get done.  This year I've been trying to use up some wrapping paper rolls that were mostly finished or that had been around for a long time.  As I wrapped gift after gift last night, I looked over at the stack of presents all in the same paper and I remembered a friend who died while I was in college and her amazing roll of wrapping paper.

She was the wife of the president of my college, but I knew her for so many years that I always thought of her more as a friend.  She had the "gift of gifts."  She had the ability to get people a gift that was just right for them.  They may not have realized it was something they wanted or needed, but it seemed to turn out she had read you just right and knew exactly what you needed.

I remember one time going over to the residence--as the president's house was called--during the holiday season.  She had been busily wrapping gifts and there was a large stack of presents on the table.  They were wrapped in a paper that was gold and to my paper-loving eyes, sumptuous.  It was satiny and silky and looked like spun gold and she had the most enticing pile of presents that looked beautiful to me just because of how they were wrapped.

And that was a bit interesting I remember thinking.  I loved to wrap every present under the tree in distinct and different paper.  The more variety, the better.  But here was a pile of presents all wrapped in the same paper, and they looked even better.  Merrier even.  Exciting, surely.  Why was that?  Was it the paper?  Was it the overall presentation?   I don't know.

I remember looking around the corner that day and seeing her industrial roll of wrapping paper.  It must have been six inches in diameter and was enough for many years of wrapping to come.  The roll was held in a metal frame that also doubled as a slicer for tearing off the right size for any wrapping need.  Oh, how I wanted that roll of paper.

I never mentioned it to her, but I think to this day I remember that magical roll of paper and her beautiful pile of wrapped presents and I hope the presents under my tree will be able to somehow feebly compare.

She is deceased now, but I remember her fondly each year at this time as I wrap my holiday gifts.

The Big Boy Update:  Excabator Dump Truck.  Yesterday he watched an excavator dig up dirt and put it into a dump truck.  He talked about it the entire time and included lots of pointing and gesticulations to make sure I understood just how exciting this was.  I got a video for posterity.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Ta da.  Her teacher said she says, "ta da" but I wasn't sure if she was stretching a babble sound into a hopeful word.  As a mother you hope your child is just that adorable and smart, but as a realist, you have to consider that it might be a coincidence of syllable sounds.  But no, she says, "ta da!" when she does something.  It is adorable.  Okay, it's adorable to me, but isn't that all that matters?

Someone Once Said:  Responsibility cannot be shared.