When I was a kid and
it came time for the “oldies” to open their presents I was always amazed by the
fuss they would make about the wrapping paper.
They would first
admire it then they would caress it tenderly and then they would gingerly begin
to unwrap the gift, and once unwrapped they would inexplicably set aside the present
while they carefully folded the wrapping paper so it could be used again the
following year, and then and only then would they turn their full attention on the
gift, and then this ritual would be repeated with each subsequent present and
would be performed by all of the oldies.
As a child I was
confused and quite frankly didn’t understand why they didn’t tear the paper to
shreds like the rest of us.
Looking back, I can
only assume that this was as a result of having been through the hard times, the
depression of the thirties, the shortages of the war years and the austerity of
the fifties.
My mum would go
through the whole ritual and would carefully tuck her pile of wrapping paper, bows
and ribbons, away in the sideboard draw “Ready for next year”.
Come the next year and
the fabulous treasures which had been so thoughtfully secreted away were
nowhere to be seen, only new rolls of wrapping paper, packs of bows and reels
of ribbons.
So, I think to myself
sanity has been restored this year it will be about the presents not what they
were wrapped in.
But no, on Christmas
day it’s the same ritual all over again.
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