My father reads my blog, so he knows a lot about me, including the fact that the birthday gift he sent last week is still in its gift wrapping. My birthday wasn't for another week anyway, so of course there's always a chance I might unwrap it on the big day, although it's likely that I won't, because really, why tamper with perfection?
Well, that clearly didn't suit him, because on Thursday evening another package arrived, bearing a bold message on the box:
Well, I am nothing if not a well-behaved daughter, so I sat down on the floor next to the front door and complied.
There were several gifts inside the box, all neatly wrapped in fun birthday papers, along with a girly pink envelope with my name on it.
My daughter immediately set about helping me decide which one to open first, based on her vast experience determining the contents of still-wrapped Christmas gifts.
"This one is a book. You can tell because of the loops on the side. This one" - holding up a heavy box - "is a craft kit. You can tell because it's heavy. And this one" - holding up two rectangular boxes tied together with ribbon - "is jewelry, because it's small and not heavy."
"Also, the big box and the little boxes go together, because big gifts always go with small gifts. They're accessories."
Ok, so what I have here is: a spiral bound book, possibly a cookbook; a kit to make my own gummy bears (because he knows I like to cook and everyone knows I love gummy bears), perhaps; and finally, individually wrapped, kitchen-utensil-shaped earrings.
Armed with this knowledge, I begin to open, while my daughter watches, and pops bubble wrap.
She's absolutely correct about the first thing:
I'll explore it more later, obviously.
Next up: gummy bears. I begin to open the wrap.
Coolness - they're apple flavored. There's a picture of an apple on the side of the box.
Wait a minute. This is not a kit to make my own apple-flavored gummy bears.
This is an iPad.
I gasp with the excitement of a small girl who's just gotten that Barbie Dream House she's always wanted.
My husband and daughter gasp with acute cases of gadget envy.
I clutch my iPad protectively and move on to the two boxes tied together, presumably some sort of iPad accessory.
Apparently, the knives are symbolic: every father should give his child their first pocket knife. I've never had a pocket knife or a father to give me one so the knife doubly meaningful for me.
I immediately put them to good use, defending my iPad from gadget-coveting family members.
I briefly consider ordering a pink plastic iPad case to symbolically represent the Barbie Dream House - but the Dream House never really worked, and I don't want to jinx it, so I chose an apple-green case instead. I've already written my first blog post on it (this one) and downloaded my first e-book (Halloween is coming, so I went with Unicorns vs. Zombies, obviously).
Now, back to my regularly scheduled procrastinating.