Making Do

A party perfect wrap

Mark Twain is credited with a comment that goes something like, "...heaven for climate, hell for company." I think I could paraphrase something to the effect, Mom for style, Dad for ingenuity.

I have Evan with me this weekend along with the instruction that he needs to get to a classmate's birthday party at 11:30 Sunday morning. Along with that, we needed to pick up a gift. Oh, and wrap it, too.

If any of you have ever received a wrapped package from me you already know where this is going. I love giving gifts and pride myself when it comes to wrapping all my own packages. I'm not that lame-ass manly guy hovering around the Girl Scout table in the Mall at Christmas time, waiting to have some board-certified-in-package-wrapping mom turn my gifts into Martha Stewart worthy works of wrapped, tied, and bowed genius. No. I'm your basic one pair of scissors, one roll of wrapping paper, one roll of tape kinda guy.

Finding the appropriate gift was easy enough: Every 8 year old needs an easy to assemble scale model of an American warplane, right? Check. And then around 9 o'clock last night I realized I had failed to pick-up some wrapping paper. And tape.

No problem for this daddy-o. I learned years ago there are certain tangible advantages to shopping at the better department stores. Just one of those advantages is getting those sturdy and attractive paper shopping bags over the holidays. And so it is that Evan will be showing up at the party today with the most special, and hardy, gift wrap of the bunch-- guaranteed. The formula was easy enough for an ingenious guy like me:

This (Mom taught me to never throw out those nice sturdy shopping bags): 

Plus this (who needs Scotch tape when you've got packing tape in the drawer?):

Equals this:

I know, thank you, genius! Right? You have to feel that baby to really appreciate its heft. Oh, and those Tootsie Rolls? Well, yeah, they've been here a bit, but Ev agreed, they make the perfect final touch.

If mom had been in charge, Evan's buddy would be receiving his gift in a gorgeous little ship-shape package-- well styled and reeking of happy-birthday-8-year-old-boy. But, as they say in truly critical situations, that just wasn't an option. Faced with a crisis, I made do. Hopefully, not do-do.