Christmas Eve

We didn't feel like doing anything today. So I made sloppy joes for lunch, Brian took a nap, and Zorah and I watched Princes et Princesses, another Michel Ocelot film. For dinner, we went to Mimmo Ferraro's, a good but pricey Italian restaurant here in Vegas.

After Brian and Zorah fell asleep, I came out here and opened all the mailers that had come in the past week (that I hadn't already opened thinking they were that book I ordered) and wrapped all the presents. I had been half-joking with Zorah that Santa and I had a deal; when she fell asleep on Christmas Eve, he would knock on our trailer door and hand me the stuff. After all, the closest thing we have to a chimney is the fan in the bathroom.

Maybe I'm a bit of a freak this way, but seeing a present in its gift-wrapped perfection gives it an unparalleled aura of mystery, cheer, dare I say magic? Anything could be inside until you open it. Someone thought about you, what amuses you, what makes you happy, and tried to encapsulate that in the tiny, pretty package before you. I love the suspense. If I have gift-wrapped presents I sometimes refrain from opening more than one a day, and then somewhere by myself so I don't drive everyone crazy with my method of unwrapping it as slowly as possible, meticulously picking at and peeling away every single shred of tape before unfolding the paper.

Since I have extra paper, I am wrapping all my unread books. I actually got a nice roll on clearance for nineteen cents. I will be forced to read or dispose of whichever book I open, all in a year-round festive atmosphere. How can you beat that?

And next year, I think I will reenlist the middle man (me), shop early, and wrap presents before sending them out. After all, everyone can use a little extra magic, can't they?

Merry Christmas!