The Giving Spirit

My husband is so nice sometimes I swear he’s the woman in the relationship.

June is wedding season and, during that time alone, it seemed like everyone we knew was using the month to live up to the cliche. BFam is a nice guy – funny, witty, knows a little about a lot. He does not, I repeat, DOES NOT do weddings. Something about the whole concept seems fake to him, he says. He should know. He’s been in at least one himself.

While he’s allergic to the thought of ceremonies, he is a great gift-giver.



He’s even a great gift wrapper. There are no bulging corners, no excess paper to cut, no tears, no excessive amounts of tape.



That would be me. And look at this wrapping paper, why don’t you?! The guy has got some serious taste. Even goes the extra mile and gets that curly, frilly stuff that goes on top. It’s not ribbon… anyone know what that stuff is called? Gift topping? Garnishing?

Great, now I just made the gift a turkey.

You can tell I’m not in charge of the gifts in my house.



And I’m totally fine with that because when you have a husband who buys pretty, sparkly, well-designed wrapping like this, your job is pretty easy. No, not the job of wrapping (see above: I suck). The gift of sitting on your butt and watching. Oh, and saying, “I think you missed a spot.”

Anyone need a good gift wrapper-slash-buyer for Christmas? I might rent him out if the price is right. Of course, I haven’t told him yet, so… yeah.