Crappy Wrapping

Back in the day, if my Friday stretched into the wee hours of Saturday morning, that meant I was out having a good time. On a dance floor somewhere. Wearing cute shoes. With a drink in my hand.

Fast-forward to present-day. Last night was a late night, but had nothing to do with dancing or drinking. Instead, I was looking especially dumpy in my "fat-girl pants" and a black tank top (braless, so I had to take care not to sit on my boobs). Sitting in the middle of my living room floor surrounded by a sea of crumpled gift wrap, with Scotch tape stuck to my body in various places.

I'm not a good gift-wrapper, y'all. My grandma Collier, who worked for a few years as a professional gift-wrapper at a posh department store, would roll over in her grave if she could see the clumsy, wrinkled lumps that will be sitting under my tree come Christmas morning. Although in my defense, I think Grandma worked at a time when stuff came in, like, regular boxes ... and now it's a different story. Because seriously? Who the heck decided it was an awesome idea to put toys in packaging like this?

Note the open front of the box? Yeah. It's hard to wrap. I know, I know ... I can hear you saying it now ... "Well, that's why you put them inside other boxes." And I swear, I save so many empty boxes "just in case" that my closet looks like a hoarder has taken up residence in there. But conveniently, NONE OF THEM happened to fit ANY of the gifts I was wrapping last night. Which means - you guessed it - crappily wrapped packages. Like this:

OMG LOL

Sadly, that's not even the worst example.

I mean, I know they're just going to get ripped open and the kids won't even care about the paper. (Except the baby ... I guarantee he'll spend more time playing with the wrapping than the present inside, as all babies do.) But still. It bugs the hell out of my inner Martha Stewart, who I wish would shut the eff up and accept my shoddy wrapping and lackluster Christmas tree. Which now, by the way, looks like this:

Oh Christ-mas tree, oh Christ-mas treeeee, how jacked-up are your braaaan-ches ...

I have visions of a picture-perfect holiday scene. But I also have three high-energy boys, a barely-grown Labrador Retriever, and cats who will hide in any crevice that looks big enough to squeeze their furry behinds into - a circumstance which serves to plow through my pristine Christmas vision like a bull through a china closet.

The wrecked tree, the rumpled gifts ... think I should just burn some sugar cookies and add a wilted poinsettia to complete the scene?