Twisted tales of the wrapping-impaired

For the wrapping-impaired, the holiday season is a time of great frustration.

The wrapping-impaired are those of us -- yes, I have suffered with the affliction for years -- who want to wrap presents neatly and attractively, who yearn to make the flaps and creases and bows turn out just so, but who, for various reasons, cannot make their fat little fingers comply.

No matter how much effort we put into wrapping a gift, what results is a horrible, misshapen lump of torn paper and wilted ribbon affixed with wads and wads of Scotch tape.

Little wonder, then, that our cheeks burn with embarrassment when someone holds up a gift we’ve labored over with scissors and paper for hours and says, to much laughter: “Who wrapped this, a cornea donor?”

So we turned to Jodi Ceglia.

Ceglia, 28, of Ellicott City, Md., is, by all accounts, an ace gift-wrapper whose creativity amazes her family and friends, and who was profiled last month in the Baltimore Sun. So I called her recently for some tips, for a quick Idiot’s Guide to Wrapping, if you will. Ceglia is such a good wrapper, in fact, that in late November she competed in something called the Scotch Brand Most Gifted Wrapper Contest in New York.

As you might imagine of a competition showcasing the best wrappers in the country, the eight contestants were not exactly asked to wrap ordinary, everyday gifts. In the first round, for instance, each contestant was required to wrap a pair of boxing gloves.

In the second round, they had to wrap a large telescope. And the two finalists went on to wrap -- get this -- a child’s jungle gym.

Ceglia didn’t win the $10,000 grand prize, but she made it into the second round and took home $2,500, which, of course, makes her a goddess to those of us who can barely wrap a shirt.

Anyway, before getting to the tips, I felt compelled to ask Ceglia about the gender issue in wrapping: the fact that the vast majority of the wrapping-impaired are, well, men.

“Oh, yeah,” said Ceglia, who is the graphics design manager for the Community College of Baltimore County. “Although, there were actually several males in the contest.”

Then she went on to tell me about her husband Bill’s wrapping abilities, which seemed to eerily parallel my own. “Oh, he’s horrible,” Ceglia said. “There’s tape everywhere. It looks like the scissors just went haphazardly [off] on their own. There’s no ribbon, no bow, just a sticker.”

Listening to this, I have to admit I got a bit teary-eyed. Then it was time for Ceglia’s tips for wrapping, which she imparted in the crisp tones of a football coach. “The absolute first thing,” she said, “is to be in the right frame of mind. You want to pick a time when you’re not rushed.”

Let’s see, I figure the next time I won’t be rushed is ... when I’m dead. But can you wrap presents when you’re dead?

“Then,” Ceglia continued, “you want to pick an area where you have room,” such as the kitchen or dining room table.

Also, she said, “you don’t want a place where the dog’s jumping up on the table and the kids are coming in and out.”

Got it. No dogs, no kids ... that’ll only happen when I’m dead too.

The third thing is to always have good supplies. Ceglia mentioned a good pair of scissors. And since so many of the wrapping-impaired have trouble with tape -- is there anything more heart-rending than watching a man claw frantically for the end of the tape with his stubby little fingers? -- she suggested using pre-cut tape strips.

But in the end, we in the wrapping-impaired community must look into our souls and acknowledge that all the time in the world and all the space to wrap and all the best wrapping supplies can’t make up for the one basic flaw that has held us back all these years: a complete and utter lack of talent.

Admitting that is the first step toward healing.