I just finished wrapping Christmas presents. My tongue it really dry, like when you fall asleep with your mouth wide open. I think it's because I stick out my tongue when I wrap presents, kind of like Michael Jordan driving the lane. For some reason, the act of wrapping requires an inordinate amount of concentration and patience for me. To make it easier, I even put everything into boxes this year, but I still managed to mess a few up. When you see the box with the patch over the torn corner, that's my handiwork.

Maybe I should take a page from Dad's playbook: make my sisters do it. My dad has these big gorilla like hands, so the thought of him trying to crease and tape a roll of flimsy paper over some box really makes me laugh. That's why, every birthday, Mother's day, and Christmas, dad's gifts were summarily deposited into a basement room and the favor asked, "Hey, can you go wrap those for me?"

Now I'm beginning to understand why.