Saturday, August 3, 2024

Spoiler Alert: The Presents Are....

This afternoon will be a family get-together down in the cities.  Not all the family, just one sizeable branch of it. Too big a group to hold it in their house, which would have too many stairs in it anyway. But there's a nice park nearby, with pavilions, picnic tables, a pool, a ball field... in short, almost all you need to keep the kids  busy and out of mischief. We might even stroll over to the splash park bit of it, since it'll be 90 and muggy this afternoon.

As for us two geezers, I'm making the assumption about bathrooms, and besides cold drinks and potato salad, we're bringing our own sturdy folding chairs. We have the kind with steel frames and good quality canvas, a lift-up tray folding out from a side, or at least a pocket to hold a beverage. They are sturdy and keep us high enough off the ground that we both can get out of them using the side bars. Long gone are the days of total indifference to whatever position we've gotten ourselves into, as muscles and joints no longer tolerate such silliness. For those of you who are curious but too polite to ask, yes, we are both losing weight, albeit slowly, but still never expect those halcyon days to return.

Parts of this family we haven't seen since last year. Or when we have, we've been busy with moving and all that entailed. So while there are no special birthdays or holidays involved in this little party, there will be a pack of gifts hauled down with us. The oldest adults will get a pair of sleeping bags. Sure, they've been used... once. Even then we were realizing we were too old for camping. They aren't. But the best part of these is, for this happy couple, the two zip together. (Steve hasn't mentioned this little detail yet. I'll make sure he does.)

Then there are two adult children. They're getting very small but nice souvenirs of foreign travels, handed down from a vanished and wealthier generation. One is more masculine, the other more feminine, suitable for this brother and sister. Like the pair of presents for the youngest two, they take up very little space... unlike their wrapping.

Nope, no wrapping paper or bows this time around. No name tags, just names written directly from a Sharpie on the big balls of bubblewrap, each one's tiny last corner held in place just long enough to arrive still securely wrapped by a short piece of cellophane tape. Because, of course, the gift for each of them really is the bubble wrap. 

SHHHHHHH! Not a whisper from you! Not one word! You hear? The two little ones get rocks inside theirs. Small ones for rocks, but large ones for Minnesota agates with lots of stripes.

The Mom will likely have to keep track of the two stones, but she's getting her own gift, again well wrapped in bubblewrap inside something a bit more sturdy, since hers is fragile. I'm not telling what it is, since there's just a tiny chance she'll read this. 

And of course, the best gift of all is for me. I'm getting rid of a nice pile of bubblewrap, and I'll get pictures today of people enjoying popping it. My gift will keep on giving back to me, not so much immediately, since the huge box of it left over from the move will still barely have a dent in it's supply. But I'm getting the hope that it will all eventually be gone, and hope can be a rare thing. Best of all is I'll have the memories to keep and to share for many years to come.

How does it get better than this?

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