Perfectionism definitely has its drawbacks.
I am something of a "joke" in my extended-family when it comes to giving presents. They have been known to come in a bit late (just a tad). My record, she says all puffed up like a proud peacock, is over two years late! But that can't be! What about the birthdays in between? Yes, they rolled past with much celebrating and gift-giving, but the present ungiven was still being constructed. You know who you are, unfortunate recipient.
|Shoddy replica of the original.|
Camera was still travelling home from Milan.
Sometimes, I want things to be so perfect before I go ahead, that the project gets put on a backburner that is not even in my house and subsequently gets forgotten about altogether.
Nicholas turned 18 last October. At least I can pat myself on the back that his present was given to him before his 19th has arrived. Small consolation really. As turning 18 is something of a rite of passage here in Australia, we gave him a showbag of paraphernalia that represents this austere age:
- a toy car (because he is old enough to drive now);
- a few "scratchies" because he can gamble (and apparently we're not responsible for his moral fibre);
- some alcohol (legal age for drinking down under);
- shaving cream (when you turn 18, hair automatically begins sprouting on your face);
- a pencil (to mark off the voting form); and
- some chocolate (at 18 you can eat as much as you like, without regard for set mealtimes - so I'm told).
Happy Belated Birthday Nick.