I have the most amazing friends!
A few weeks ago, I mentioned to a friend that years ago I loved to scrapbook, but I couldn’t keep up after having baby #4 and now all of my supplies are woefully outdated. Several days later, she showed up at my door with a big box packed full of gorgeous, GORGEOUS scrapbooking supplies. Papers, stamps, inks, mini-scrapbook kits, the list goes on and on. She explained that she had to de-junk her office for work and she thought I could use some of her supplies to make cards with. YES I CAN!!!
She is a real life, bona fide designer for several scrapbooking companies. You know those wonderful idea books you browse through to ooh and aah over all of the beautiful layouts and cards? She did those. Seriously. She even has her own column in a magazine. She’s also beautiful, talented, always has a clean house, has perfect children, and was just called to be her ward’s Relief Society President. I feel like an insignificant scrub next to her. This is absolutely not her fault. It’s mine, all mine. I really am a scrub.
The socially appropriate thing to do would have been to give her a thank-you card for her thoughtfulness, and maybe even a note of encouragement for her new calling. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. How on earth does a person who can’t even draw a stick figure properly create a thank-you card for a professional thank-you card designer? I was paralyzed by my lack of skill.
I spent hours poring over idea books, trying to find just the right card to impress her. Then I realized that if I attempted to make any of those cards, the end result would look like I let my paper-eating cat (seriously) go crazy with a glue stick. I agonized some more. Maybe I could just buy a thank you card at the store. No, that would be WAY lame. Maybe I could have another artistically inclined friend make a card for me. Nope. Then I’d be stuck trying to make a card for that friend, too.
There was no way out. I was going to have to make a card. I settled for a minimalist mid-90’s design with a thoughtful saying on the front. (Read: The card totally stunk.) It didn’t even match the bag of chocolates I got for her. I took the coward’s way out and had Emma deliver it. That way I wouldn’t have to see my friend’s face when she saw what I’d done with her beautiful supplies.
Only I could find a way to take a thoughtful act of kindness by a friend and turn it into a multi-day trauma that was ALL ABOUT ME. I’m such an ingrate. And a scrub. But I have really great friends.