Pre-Ramble: Hi, it’s me Daisy… resident canine and guest blogger extraordinaire. So, tick, tock … ’tis the day before Christmas and Mom is in the other room frantically trying to wrap presents. I want to be supportive, but really, when that is going on, you just have to gather up the chew toys and head out of Dodge.

From where I sit, it’s essentially a logistics issue. Usually short on time, Mom will try to cut corners, which just increases the likelihood that she will cut the paper too small. Then she’ll run out of tape or lose the scissors. And then there are the packing materials. Mom saves “good boxes” all year long for just this occasion. She’s an animal… rifling through the closet  trying to unearth just the right sized box for this or that, but invariably, there is nothing appropriate to whatever it is she’s trying to wrap. She probably wouldn’t want me to mention this, but in addition to good boxes, she also saves “good bags” and “good ribbon.”  These prized specimens reside in the wrapping closet along with rolls of decorative paper and random party decorations. 

If you read the blog posting about “lists” (12/3), you probably have an inkling of the depth of dysfunction going on over here, in this case regarding packaging materials. It’s sad really. And a fire hazard. All those bags and empty boxes filled with tissue - or worse - packing peanuts. I could write an entire treatise on the dynamics of packing peanuts (which are basically inedible, so what’s the point?). Suffice it to say that, since they are also not biodegradable, we corral them into a giant garbage bag until it is full enough to take over to be recycled at the local packaging store. The length of time it takes to rid the premises of the temporarily indispensible, but ultimately unwanted packing peanuts can be staggering. Dragging the unwieldy bag of styrofoam out to the car and then over to be recycled is a multiple-step process and colossal hassle.  Just because we have successfully captured the freakishly wily packing peanuts in a secure container doesn’t mean that they will make it from the house out to the car. Accordingly, just because the bags have been hauled out to the car, doesn’t mean that we’re in the mood to drive them over to the recycling shop. We can have bags of packing peanuts in the back of the Yukon for months, even passing by the recycling shop several times before actually pulling over and shepherding them through the door.

The Take-Away: There’s no take-away here, although, I’m sure Dad would be grateful if you would take away some of these boxes and bags. In her defense, even though Mom has an affinity for boxes, bags and other peripheral packing materials, it’s not like we have 40 cats living in the house  (believe me, you would have heard from me on that). These items are organized, stored in a respectable manner, and generally retrievable upon command. The fact is, a beautifully wrapped present can make a huge difference in the overall impact of the gift exchange experience. According to perennial wrap diva, Martha Stewart, “beautiful gift wrapping sends a message of thoughtfulness that is as important as the gift itself.”  I suggest using bacon-flavored rawhide chips as gift tags .

Pre-Ramble: Santa Claus came to town last week, marking the official beginning of the Christmas holiday.  I understand that he will be making a list and checking it twice, which totally makes sense since ’tis the season where you need to keep track of a lot of stuff.  As an organizationally challenged person, I can have trouble keeping pertinent details at the forefront of my mind. Thus, the importance of The List.

What I have discovered however, is that The List is not a foolproof measure. Whether I’ve checked it once or twice, or even more times than that, I still seem to have issues. Just the other day, I was feeling all jazzed up and efficient and began to draft a quick grocery list. I thoroughly queried each family member to see if there was anything they needed from the store and noted each item carefully on The List.

Well, groping around in my purse on the way into the store, it became clear that I had, in fact, left The List behind on the kitchen counter. Dag-nabbit! I was pretty sure I had checked it twice, and yet here I was – listless. 

Sadly, this isn’t the first time this has happened, and it wouldn’t have been so disturbing if I hadn’t just had a conversation with my husband, not seconds before, about the way people sometimes forget lists. This combination of factors led me to consider the following list of habitual, potentially  passive-aggressive “list behaviors:”

No List – In an effort to save time, I have been known to forge ahead with no list of any kind. This wreckless practice always has a dismal success rate, as I will, more often than not, forget crucial items - usually the highest priority item - and have to go back to the store immediately… (walk of shame…)

Forget List – Other times, I will make a list and then outright forget to bring it to the store (see above), resulting in a low item fulfillment rate, and almost always necessitating a return trip to purchase the missing items.

List AWOL - I have the list when I leave the house, but for the love of Pete, when I get to the store, it’s nowhere. The list has either fallen onto the garage floor, or is camouflaging somewhere at the bottom of my purse. Again, high likelihood that I will be returning to the store to retrieve forgotten items.

Ignore List – There are times when, in some inexplicable display of hubris, I will bring the list, but REFUSE TO LOOK AT IT, preferring instead to try and “guess” what is listed. The result in this case is pretty much the same as what happens in “no list” and “forget list” above.

Consult List and Still Forget Stuff – This is probably the most humiliating scenario. The prepared list is RIGHT THERE IN MY HAND and, for whatever reason, I simply fail to see one or more of the items. This, of course, means that if I actually need those items, I must redouble my efforts to procure them, even if that means driving to a different store to save face or sending one of the kids later.

Spontaneously Edit List – Sometimes, I will be shopping with a list of things that I need, and then randomly decide that: a) I no longer need/want one or more of the items listed; b) I don’t know where to find an item(s) and am suddenly too tired/hungry/crabby to make an effort to track it down; or c) I know exactly where an item is located, but am too lazy/tired/hungry/crabby to go to that aisle in the store. In each of these situations, a rationalization loop will immediately kick in to craft a work-around solution for whatever items are suddenly and intentionally dropped off the face of the list.

The Take-Away: Just wanted to share. I’d love to hear any ”list behaviors” that you’d like to add to the list. And, Santa, if you’re online right now, we’d appreciate a quick tutorial on how to manage this daunting task.