Four Gifts and No Tape

December twenty-first. The plan was to get this done in an hour. That was two hours ago, and I am currently sitting at my kitchen table with one piece of tape stuck to my thumb and a bow that has given up entirely on being centered.

I do this every year, or the version of this that involves four people on my list and one roll of tape that I was certain was fuller than this. The wrapping paper is the good kind, the kind I bought at a dollar amount that felt reasonable in the store and now feels slightly embarrassing given what is underneath it. The gifts themselves are fine. The execution is what it is.

when the tape fights back

I got the last one done and held it up the way you do when you're trying to decide if it's acceptable. It is not beautiful. But the seam is mostly hidden and the bow has structural integrity if you don't tilt it. I put it with the others on the chair by the door and sat back and felt unreasonably accomplished. The windowsill looked the same as always, bowl, card, the photograph Carol sent in April, all of them in the grey December light. That part I didn't plan. It was just there.

good enough. done.

I need to buy tape before Thursday. I have written this on my hand, which is a method I know does not work, but here we are.