Skip to main content

An etiquette question for you

I have decided that I'm going to try to wrap the majority of my Christmas presents in reusable bags like these. (Wouldn't you like a gift wrapped like that? Is it not adorable?) I wish I could sew, so that I wouldn't have to blow most of my Christmas budget buying these bags, but what can you do.

Here's the question. The idea of using reusable bags is, of course, that they will not be thrown away, that they will be used next Christmas and the next and so forth. But, um, would it be rude to ask for the bag back so that I can reuse it next year, or should it just be part of the gift, and just be passed on so that hopefully that person will reuse it? I mean, obviously if I wrap a gift for, say, the girls' teachers in one of these I wouldn't ask for it back. But amongst family members, should I? Since only my family members read this blog, I suppose what I'm asking is -- if I give you your gift in this gift bag, could I have it back?

Comments

Anonymous said…
Yes.

Mom
12:57 PM
MomofK9s said…
Yes, absolutely. I have even saved 2 or 3 that I have received for you. I just need to find them. All you have to do is remind me! Oh, and I would stick a cute little note on there like "help me save the environment and return the bag...thanks"! Well maybe not that cheesy but you get my point! What about if you just bought fabric, sewed a hem on and use like wrapping paper?
1:45 PM
Anonymous said…
The simple answer is no. The bag is now mine. I'm completely selfish.

Just kidding. About the bag not about being selfish.

Casey
3:53 PM
aimee said…
Of course I'll give it back.

Unless I want it.

Just kidding. Casey always brings that out of me.

Hey, Casey, why don't you ever post a comment on my blog?
10:08 AM
aimee said…
Oh, and that is so great of you by the way.

I decided to wrap them all in butcher paper. A cheaper version of gift wrap. I am using reusable ribbon. Maybe I'll get that back.
10:09 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.
1 comment
Read more

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...
6 comments
Read more

Little sisters

Mallory was invited for a sleepover tonight; this morning, as she was packing her suitcase, Phoebe came in and said, "Me too!" When Chris found her suitcase, and gently told her that she wasn't invited to the sleepover, she cried for an hour. I think I'll always have a special sort of sympathy for Phoebe, my second child, because I was the second child too*. (And it's odd, because although I have younger siblings as well, I always think of myself as a little sister, or as the younger older sister, if that makes sense. I think that's because Jana, my big sister, was so good at being the oldest, responsible and, uh, authoritarian, and I am, well, fundamentally irresponsible. We all bowed to her! In a good way. I could never live up to that.) I often feel sorry for Phoebe, left behind while Mallory goes to school all day, because I well remember the long, lonely boring days I spent waiting for Jana to come home from school (not counting the days I spent playing i...
3 comments
Read more