OCD Nightmare

There are packages all over the kitchen table.

Gifts about to get to their destination, but they must be wrapped first.

I’m not allowed to wrap gifts.

I even offered.

“Don’t touch them,” Kathy said. “We can’t give anyone a gift that you’ve wrapped.”

She’s probably correct. I definitely do not have that talent. I’ve tried. 

Can’t do it.

Yet there’s also prep work to do.

We have a couple of Christmas Eve visits to make, and then I’m cooking here on Christmas Day.

“I need to know who is eating here,” I said. “So I can make enough.”

“Doesn’t matter how many people I tell you are eating here you’re going to make enough food for twenty people,” Kathy said.

She has a point.

But Christmas has always been a day of anticipation, hasn’t it?

As kids we waited on Santa.

As adults with younger kids, we waited for it to be over.

And now, it’s a little more relaxed…

…unless you’re blessed with OCD.

I waiting for the gifts to be wrapped.

And then unwrapped…

…so I can get rid of the paper.