Christmas Present Wrapping

One's husband made himself busy wrapping one's Christmas pressies today - bless him.

While this marathon task was happening I wandered into the bedroom carrying fresh out of the dryer - are we ironing these? not on your Nelly, it's Christmas - clothes, and I was told not to look ... so I didn't.

Then he came downstairs with one wrapped item, again I was told "don't look". In fact, he went as far as to turn my head the other way. He nearly got my duster stuffed up his nose. Then when said item had been placed in the living room I was told that I HAD to go and look NOW! Even though I know exactly what it is, so had no idea why I had to go and 'admire' this, ahem, mystery present.

For the next hour I could hear paper being torn and the sellotape machine whizzing away and he was making his usual - I'm working so hard "phew" noises - and then he shouted down to me ... "it's never ending this lot".

Well, it serves him right. I bought everything myself and stuck it in a box for him to wrap well over two weeks ago.

Uho, we've now had an "oh dear, I'll be glad when I've done this, I'm sweating" ... moan.

At least he won't be doing anything dopy like wrapping the envelopes I'd bought last year for the Christmas cards I was making - which never got finished as mum died last year on 9th Dec, the day before her 75th birthday. And then we had to take dad into the hospice for Christmas straight after her funeral on the 20th, so life then was a bit of a blur - and I'd accidentally left the envelopes in with my bag of pressies so he wrapped 'em. I still can't believe he did that ...

Revenge Is A Sweet Tooth

Or ... Santa Thinks I'm A Chocolate Munching Lush:

We had Christmas at home this year, just the three of us, my grumpy old man, pussy and me. We did our usual thing of opening one present an hour, this ensured I'd have the last one to open because I don't buy as much stuff for grumpy as he does for me ... this is only fair.
He did warn me beforehand that there were no expensive surprises wrapped up, but did I believe him? Hmm, yes ... but I half hoped that there'd be something sparkly tucked away somewhere. Don't you just hate being disappointed?

These three were missing during the photo-shoot

By the sixth hour/present, I began to detect a theme going here ... yes, I'd told everyone that:

1. I didn't really need any presents [this does not include from my GOM]
2. If they must buy me anything, then - please - not bath stuff.
3. Ditto shower gels or body sprays - and we all know why.

Every single present I unwrapped - bar one - either involved alcohol [yum] or was covered in chocolate.

I have mentioned before how we do Christmas, and that grumpy doesn't actually want any Christmas presents, which up to now has always worked to my greedy advantage ... or so I thought.

You know, I've just been looking for the blog post that covers grumpy and his presents, when I came across another one that made me laugh out loud, I'd totally forgotten about it.

Then I came across this one. Hmm, having looked back ... I now realise that he's always bought me lots of chocolates and left the choice of something sparkly for me to buy [with my own loot]. So he is in fact probably a lot more cunning than I thought.

Anyway, for me, the best [non-alcoholic] present was from my pussy cat - a tin of cream crackers. This is because I don't have a sweet tooth - but I do know a man who has ...

My Christmas 2009

Christmas day - after visiting the daughters and grandchildren and unwrapping our presents from them [just what we wanted - thanks] we went to my sister’s where she spent quite a bit of time organising people and telling some of them what time they’d be getting up today - Sunday, not Boxing Day! [they could have a lie-in]. She’s not exactly the sort of person who lives for the moment but she is the worlds best ignored organiser!

I was interrogated yet again about whether or not we were going to stay at Center Parcs for her birthday. She’d obviously been badgering my brother-in-law yesterday to find out, as I received a couple of texts from him [or her using his phone] to the effect. Tut tut, she’s so chuffing nosy.

The idea of not sending Christmas cards to each other in future was received wholeheartedly by everyone there, I have to admit at this point that my sister never used to send anyone a Christmas card until I shamed her into it several years ago [before I got grumpy].

Now to the presents - we each [obviously] received what we wanted as our main presents, seeing as we'd bought and wrapped them ourselves, even the ones among us who wanted cash to spend at the sales.

The stocking fillers - hmm, methinks my sister was getting her own back this year as she’s bought me industrial strength wrinkle creams - they could even be the same ones I gave her last year - we do this kind of thing.

In the few weeks before Christmas, my grumpy old man made a wonderful choice - aided by someone who knows me very well [me] - for my main, ahem, surprise present. He bought me a pair of padparadscha sapphire dangly earrings to match a pair of studs [and my ring] that I’d already got. Great, that’s me sorted, now what on earth shall I get for him?

I was cruising t’interweb looking for ideas on what to get him, somehow - and I don’t know how this happened - I ended up looking at jewellery. Ooooh, Mexican fire opals in a pendant - my third favourite gems. I bet he’d like something like that, then he could lend it to me to wear.

‘Verily’ said the bad angel looking over my left shoulder ‘if thou wants one, thou must bid on one at the celestial auction house and market place known as eBay.

‘Oh no, that’s not fair.’ said the good angel, balancing precariously on my right shoulder.
‘Oh would you look at that, it’s perfect, just what I, oops, he wants.’ said I ecstatically under my breath.

‘Go on, bid on it, bid on it’ said the bad angel jumping up and down on my left shoulder.
‘Oh, you mustn’t, it’s mean and greedy’ squeaked the good angel as I brushed the irritating little annoyance of my right shoulder whilst filling in my maximum bid - aided by the bad angel pushing my mouse.

Lo, the pendant was won later that very day with much joy and jubilation, then was paid for in an instant using the celestial bank known as Paypal. It was delivered at great speed through the ice and snow two days later by an early morning messenger - aka the postman.

It’s a lovely pendant, the GOM was very pleased but decided it didn’t really suit him so he gave it back to me - well, of course it never occurred to me that I should keep the pendant for myself, ahem, not until he suggested it - he said he’d keep the AIG certificate though so he can look at the photo of it whenever he wants.

Surprises from the GOM -

1. Terry’s Chocolate Orange.
2. Terry’s Chocolate Orange box [weighted] with a ‘me to you’ bear in it.
3. Terry’s Chocolate Orange in a big box with a spare loose one in the bottom from the 2nd surprise.
4. box of Liquorice Allsorts - revenge present for the pendant.
5. ‘Oi!! where’s my Southern Comfort????’

He'd forgot to wrap it. I didn't realise it was missing until I was in bed last night cataloguing all my presents in my mind, I jumped up and told him it wasn't there, bless him, he said he'd go down and wrap it for me, this was at at 12.30am, isn't he sweet - or something?

Hang on a minute, the cheeky sod! I bought the Terry's Chocolate Oranges - buy 1 get 2 free from Morrisons. Hmm, I think he’s starting to catch on to my methods …