Today as I was cleaning my room I found my mothers' Christmas gift.
'Funny' I thought to myself 'I was sure that I had already wrapped this...'
I wandered down to the tree and sure enough under the heavily laden boughs was a box of roughly the same shape and size as the one I had found. As unobtrusively as possible I picked up the mystery parcel and tiptoed past my sewing mother who of course noticed what I was doing and said:
"What have I done?! Don't I get a Christmas gift this year?"
I mumbled something about coal and hurried upstairs, shutting myself in with the box.
Hastily I unwrapped it and fought my way in, letting out a startled chuckle at the contents. This was one of the last boxes that I had packed in Stettler, an assortment of odds and ends. A jug, a piece of fabric, two pillow cases, a mask, a pair of socks (most likely already belonging to my mother, liberated to grace my feet), some old books and my phone. I laughed to myself at how it would have actually been quite funny if she had opened it on Christmas morning while wrapping her actual gift. She would have been especially outraged at my giving her own socks back to her. Very funny indeed!
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