While one hand holds the paper,
t'other's groping for the tape. Her
goodwill fades as sticky tape escapes her lurches.
She lets go the gift, to travel
to the tape that caused the hassle
and the perfect wrap unravels.
Christmas present trapping
while the other side’s unwrapping
and the tape is strapping fingers to the box,
is a skill she’s never mastered.
She’s plastered the label
to the table. Hubby mocks.
But he won’t wield the scissors
to help her do the business.
And as weeks fly by to Christmas, pressures rise
to wrap every festive offering
for her children and their offspring
—whether fake bling or the real thing—by yuletide.
When they’re stacked under the tree,
looking higgly piggledy,
and the grandkids come to see
and anticipate with glee, tree-lights winter-twinkling.
They won’t go in Santa’s sack
because the corners come unwrapped,
but it’s worth her aching back
when her grandchildren feedback: Gran’s look… interesting.
It’s getting nearer…