Don't Call Me "The Wrapper!"

Y chromosome at work.

My rapping skills are nonexistent and my gift wrapping talents are...um, in need of improvement. 

As anyone who has ever received a present from me will attest, my packaging suffers from the four "P's".  Piss poor product presentation.  This comes just as naturally to me as D minuses did in high school geometry.  Any item wrapped by yours truly and placed under the Christmas tree is easily identifiable by its insane lack of any understanding of spacial concepts or planning.  My work is so laughable that I am convinced the trend toward fancy bags with even fancier paper spilling out their tops was inspired by designers who checked out my product.  I go for the bag thing whenever it's available.  It's so damn festive looking and there is no noisy ripping and tearing necessary.  Classy by proxy.

When my kids were little they could always spot the gifts from daddy and were understandably concerned if said gift contained a present that had been put together by their old man.  The Barbie doll house, a perfect case in point, practically classified as a tear down by the time I completed the "easy to assemble" miniature real estate nightmare.  The elevator was perpetually stuck between floors and some of the walls, I later discovered, were upside down.  Barbie scowled at me as I struggled to complete construction in the wee hours of Christmas morning.  This Ken she was ready to divorce! It was a welcome relief when the kids became old enough to request only some long green for Christmas.  They'd seen quite enough of my handiwork.

Maybe it's the Y chromosome that's the problem.  I'm fairly certain many of my brothers are similarly challenged when it comes to wrapping presents.  Take a look under your own tree.  You can take it to the bank any poorly wrapped gift is almost certainly the product of a male member of the household. Women, on the other hand, know how to have just enough paper and ribbon.  They also know how to make the corners of a package look neat with sharp creases and just a touch of scotch tape.  Do they take night classes for that stuff when we guys aren't looking?

This gift suffers from the four P's

Just thinking about all of this causes me a great deal of anxiety and I haven't yet begun to shop.  (Another scary experience that women seem to have under control.)  Maybe I'll lie down for awhile just to make sure I'm rested enough for the ordeal.  Let's see...I'll need to pick up some wrapping paper and scotch tape...Wait, maybe just some scotch?  A capital Christmas idea!  I'll do some one stop shopping at the liquor store.  Adult beverages for my adult friends!  It's perfect,  sloth, envy, greed and delusions of grandeur (the four essential food groups) all in a container that needs no wrapping.

You'll be able to spot your gift from me under the tree.
 It'll be the one that's leaking. 

Makes a lot of sense.