By Kate Rohr
I am a severe procrastinator. All of my family and friends know this and long ago accepted it. I’m late to everything, and if I complete a homework assignment earlier than the night before it’s due, I freak out.
Every year, my unparalleled gift for procrastination culminates during the holiday season. I have a whole year to find thoughtful gifts for my family, and yet every year I wait. And wait. And wait some more. Until suddenly it’s Christmas Eve and I still haven’t gotten a gift for my parents! I can search the stores like a madwoman, sprinting through aisles and glaring at other customers when they take that last pink scarf that my mom might have liked. But by this point, there’s really nothing left – the Black Friday shoppers ransacked the stores weeks ago. Now I have to get creative. And by creative, I mean very, very pathetic.
Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad! How about a coupon for 10 free back scratches? Or how about five times when I’ll walk the dog – wait for it – without being asked! You’re so lucky to have a thoughtful daughter like me. You’re welcome.
The worst thing about these already sad excuses for Christmas presents is that they often don’t even get used. And that’s certainly not my parents’ fault. Last year for Christmas, they received a very carefully decorated coupon for a fancy dinner made by yours truly. All they had to do was name a date. And they did. In fact, they named several. And I never came through on any of them.
But not this year. There will be no coupon-making this Christmas Eve. I am going to finally be the gift-giver I always should have been. And so this is my pledge: I will purchase and wrap all my Christmas gifts before Christmas Eve. Yes, I know that’s crazy, but drastic procrastination calls for drastic measures.
By drastic measures, I mean list-making. I don’t like lists because they stress me out, but then again, so does making coupons at 11:30 on Christmas Eve. First, I’m going to have my family write out ‘wish lists’ to avoid lame gifts – for instance, what if I got my dad a fancy pair of gloves when he really wanted a power drill? It would be a mess. Then, I’ll make a secret list that I will carefully guard with my life – when I say drastic, I mean it – of what I plan on buying for them.
So get ready, Rohr clan, because your minds are about to get blown by my recently discovered gift-giving abilities. Oh, and Mom and Dad, about that long-lost dinner… how does this Sunday sound?
