The Christmas Present

"I bought some Christmas decorations from Wal-Mart," Charly said as I got home from work.

"Really?" I asked skeptically.

"Yup," she said, "Come look."

I followed Charly over into the living room. She was practically glowing with excitement.

"I bought these candles, and these window decorations, and these lights, oh, and look. I bought two kinds of wrapping. One color is for you and the other is for me. What one do you like the most?"

I looked down at the two colors. "I like the silver one," I said.

"Good, I like the white one more," she replied with a grin.

A week later and after Thanksgiving day, Charly and I were in the house. We had aquired a small Christmas tree from Charly's mom and decorated it. The tree looked really good. Charly had hand made a ton of small paper snowflakes, we had borrowed some hand made ornaments, and even made some on a date together. Charly walked over to the tree. She was holding a large box. To this day I'm still not sure what was in it.

"What is that?" I asked.

"It's a Christmas gift," She answered.

"Is it for me?" I asked again.

"No silly, it's for both of us." She replied smiling.

At that moment I was struck with the realization that our brilliant plan in having two colors of wrapping paper, one for each of us, was flawed. My face fell and I looked at Charly with an expression of grave concern on my face, "If it's for both of us how are we suppose to wrap it?"

She just laughed at me.

A Christmas Present to Us

My mom has a Christmas tradition with Christmas presents that I love--every year, instead of writing the person's name on every single one of their presents, she has a specific wrapping paper for each individual person. It's really fun, because in the weeks leading up to Christmas, you can try to figure out which wrapping paper is yours. This is a tradition I wanted to continue in my own family, so I bought two different rolls of wrapping paper at Wal Mart. 

While I was Black Friday shopping, one of the few purchases I made was a ten dollar griddle. I decided to wrap it, so our cute little tree would have plenty of presents underneath it. This week, Ben grabbed the griddle and went to open it. 

"No, no!" I shouted, in my typical panicky voice. Ben says we have a good chance statistically of dying at the same time, since he's older and a guy but never stressed, while I'm younger and a girl but always stressed out. 

"What?" Ben asked in sincere innocence, not letting go of the griddle. 

"The griddle," I said, walking over and taking it away from him. "I'm going to wrap it."

"Oh," Ben said, giving me a puzzled look. "Who's it going to be for?"

"Us, of course," I laughed. 

"Both of us?" Ben asked. 

"Yes ..." I said, looking for the trick in the question. 

"But ..." Ben grinned his teasing-Charly smile. "What wrapping paper are you going to use?" 

I just rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help grinning along with Ben.