The other day, after I met Santa at the mall to help shop for the wee Pole named AsiaWife, I got home and snatched enough time to wrap both mine and Santa’s presents to Asia.
For weeks the wrapping paper was tormenting me, as was shopping for the woman who either has everything or has just bought one more basket, notebook, or something-pretty-for-herself, and thus depriving me of that which had been on my list. But no matter: I’ve always worked well under time pressure.
So now I’ve wrapped the presents and, to tease the Little Fox, I placed them before the fireplace. And then I waited for her to notice them. The sound of the screech owl would be that signal.
But I waited. And waited. And waited. She had been in and out of the parlor room a few times. The blue gift bag and three wrapped presents make a striking contrast against the black hearth. Where was the notice?
So then I got in on the act. I stood by the door, saying good night to her as I was heading off to bed to read. She looked at me, then looked past me. I knew she was hooked. I ducked out of the doorway and let her stand in awe of what lay covered for another two weeks. Ha! Ha-HA! She doesn’t have a clue for 3 of 4..
Mad Santa strikes again!