Our 9-year-old son locked himself in his room with his haul of presents.
Afer a period of time punctuated with rustling sounds and the “scrchk!” of tape, he emerged triumphant with wrapped presents.
Upon examining them I had to ask, “Why is there a Twizzler’s wrapper glued to the end of this present?”
He shrugged. “There was a gap.”
“It’s perfect.” I said.