Sarah Says Things: The Wrapping Paper Nightmare

Every December I convince myself—again—that this is the year I’ll wrap gifts like a competent, Pinterest-adjacent adult. You know the vibe: crisp kraft paper, perfectly tied twine, a sprig of evergreen tucked in at a whimsical angle, maybe a tasteful tag done in my “natural handwriting,” which of course looks nothing like my real handwriting.

And every December, the wrapping process reminds me who I actually am: someone sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by paper scraps, tape stuck to my socks, and a dull sense of betrayal that YouTube tutorials lie.

Let’s start with the scissors—the single most important tool, and the first thing to vanish the moment you need them. They were right there. You just had them. And now? Gone. Replaced by a backup pair that can’t cut warm butter, much less a straight line through thick paper.

Then there’s the wrapping paper itself. I always think I have “plenty,” but somehow every roll is either (a) down to its final 11 inches, (b) creased beyond repair, or (c) a pattern I must have liked in a moment of seasonal delusion. And why—WHY—is no standard gift ever the same width as the remaining paper?

Enter the glitter paper, which looks beautiful on the shelf and then immediately attempts to exfoliate your entire home. You try to cut it and the scissors respond with a firm “absolutely not.” You try to tape it and the tape says, “Yeah, no.” And afterward you find glitter in your hair, on your dog, and somehow inside your purse.

Twine and kraft paper are supposed to be the “simple” option. Rustic, minimal, charming. Except twine is basically the holiday version of headphone cords—it tangles instantly, forms a knot with no visible beginning or end, and mocks you while you try to look effortless. And kraft paper? Gorgeous. Until you discover it’s the least forgiving material on Earth. One wrong fold and now it looks like you wrapped a gift using a brown grocery bag in the dark.

Let’s also acknowledge the tag situation. Every house contains exactly 237 leftover tags from past years, and none of them match. Some are shaped like mittens. Some say “To: Grandma” even if Grandma has been gone for a decade. Others look like they belong on a very fancy gift you are not giving. And yet, you use them anyway.

And of course, there’s the inevitable tape crisis. Halfway through wrapping the most awkwardly shaped gift in the universe, the dispenser runs out. Now you’re rummaging through drawers like a raccoon, praying for a fresh roll that isn’t the cursed off-brand kind that tears diagonally for sport.

By the end, you’re sweaty, questioning life choices, and sitting next to a pile of wrapped presents that somehow look both overworked and underperforming. The corners poke out. The seams don’t line up. One of them has a suspicious bump you swore you smoothed. Another gift looks like it lost a fight with a toddler.

But you know what? It’s wrapped. It’s done. And it’s absolutely going under the tree like that.

Perfection is for magazines. I’m just trying to make sure the tape sticks.

Sarah Says Things: The 6–7 Enigma

At some point in the past year—no one can pinpoint exactly when—America’s youth collectively decided to communicate exclusively in inside jokes that adults are neither meant nor allowed to understand. Chief among them: the inexplicable, omnipresent phrase “6–7.”

If you don’t have teenagers, congratulations. You probably still speak English. The rest of us? We’re just out here trying to decode why two random numbers create an atmosphere reminiscent of a frat party.

What does it mean?
Absolutely nobody knows.
And that’s the point.

We have asked.
We have begged.
We have Googled things we will never un-Google.

And the kids? They just smirk. Because nothing delights a teenager more than a joke with no punchline, no explanation, and no connection to anything happening in the room.

It is, apparently, comedy.

Teens are treating “6–7” like it’s the new “fetch,” except this time it actually is happening. They say it at school. In group chats. While playing sports. At the dinner table. At church youth group. I’m convinced someone yelled it during the national anthem at a basketball game.

Ask them what it means, and you get the same response you’d get if you asked for the launch codes:

A shrug.
A grin.
A whispered “you’re too old.”

Perfect. Love that for us.

Meanwhile, parents everywhere are standing in kitchen doorways like confused Victorian ghosts, wondering if this is a secret code, a cult password, or the modern equivalent of Pig Latin. We’re out here deciphering hieroglyphics while the kids are congratulating each other for saying two numbers in ascending order.

And don’t even THINK about trying to use it back at them.

Say “6–7” to a teen, and they stare at you with the same expression you use the same expression you use when your mom texts “Is this TikTak?”

“Stop. You’re ruining it,” they say, which is hilarious because there is nothing to ruin. There is no joke. The joke is that there is no joke.

Teenagers have invented an inside joke about not having an inside joke.

In all honesty- I’m impressed. It’s the most diabolical form of comedy they’ve come up with since “Deez Nuts.”

So here we are, in the era of “6–7,” a phrase so meaningless, so context-free, so stupidly funny to them that it has fully replaced normal human conversation.

Maybe someday the kids will reveal its meaning.
Maybe it’s an elaborate social experiment.
Maybe it’s an accident.
Maybe they forgot why they say it, too.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Until then, we’ll continue wandering around our homes while teenagers shout “6–7!!!” at the refrigerator, at their siblings, at TikTok, at the dog, and occasionally at thin air—because apparently the real punchline is us trying to understand it.

But whatever. Fine. Let them have their mystery.

Because when they’re adults someday, their kids will shout, “88–13!” and they’ll have absolutely no idea why either.

Sarah Says Things: The Holiday Goodie Gauntlet

Every December, without fail, the world transforms into a parade of holiday goodies. Cookies, candies, cocoa bombs, fudge, pretzel clusters, mystery bars that may or may not contain peanut butter—it’s like everyone collectively decided, “What if we all baked at the same time and delivered it to each other in an unregulated exchange system with no clear rules or exit strategy?”

And look, I’m not anti-goodie. I’m just saying the holiday treat ecosystem could use a user manual.

First, there’s the Cookie Exchange Enthusiast, who believes in their heart that December is a competitive sport. This person shows up with a cookie so detailed and structurally complex that it requires a cooling rack, parchment paper, and emotional commitment. Meanwhile, the rest of us show up with whatever didn’t stick to the pan. But sure—tell me again how “it’s just for fun.”

Then comes the Neighbor Drop-Off Surprise, when your doorbell rings and someone you haven’t seen in eleven months hands you a paper plate wrapped in Saran Wrap so tight it could survive reentry from space. There’s always at least one treat on the plate you cannot identify with confidence. You eat it anyway. It’s tradition.

There’s the Office Treat Table, which begins as a sweet gesture and quickly devolves into a 12-hour grazing frenzy. You walk past it saying, “I don’t need anything,” and then somehow leave with a brownie crumb welded to your sweater and a handful of caramel corn you didn’t even mean to grab. You don’t know what’s on that table. You don’t ask.

Then, inevitably, someone gifts you a Tin of Cookies, which is adorable until you remember those tins are the Matryoshka dolls of holiday chaos. Three layers. Four types of cookies. Zero labels. Every time you open one, it feels like you’re participating in a culinary trust exercise.

And let’s not forget the Home Kitchen Bake-a-Thon, where holiday ambition goes to die. You start strong, thinking you’ll crank out a gorgeous “Pinterest-level display.” Two hours later, the kitchen looks like a flour-based crime scene and the dog has eaten something he definitely was not supposed to. Half your cookies are overbaked, the other half are underbaked, and you’re seriously considering passing off store-bought as your own because really— who’s going to know?

All month long, it’s goodies. Constant goodies. Goodies you didn’t ask for. Goodies you feel weirdly obligated to eat. Goodies that appear in your house with no explanation. Goodies that come with handwritten recipe cards because someone, somewhere, wants you to commit to making their signature treat instead of the one you’ve made since 2006.

And through it all, December marches on, stuffing us full of sugar and expectation, daring us to pretend we have any control over our self-restraint. Spoiler: we don’t.

So yes, the holiday goodie tradition is charming, thoughtful, and full of community spirit. But it’s also sticky, chaotic, overly competitive, and impossible to escape.

And that feels about right.

Too Much White Stuff - By Dan Dauw

By Dan Dauw
Geneseo Current

TOO MUCH WHITE STUFF

   If this first measurable snowfall we had, well, it just might be a l-o-n-g winter. We had 9” but it was still snowing.  My snowblower does not work, but our next door neighbor, Jim Putnam, came over twice and cleared the driveway and sidewalk.  He has been so helpful. Our health isn’t what it used to be. The “Golden Years!”  

HARD WATER FISHING

   I did the “soft water” fishing three weeks ago and I caught a few nice crappies and a bass. Enough for a meal, but “just.”  I think I’m going to have to hang up the ice fishing. I really like ice fishing, and have for many years, but the old body says stay off the ice. Mother Nature wins!
  Lorna always went with me for safety concerns, but bless her heart, I’m sure she won’t mind enjoying the warmth of our house vs. cold, wind, ice and that “white stuff!” 

SPORTS

  Of all times for our network to go on the blink, we missed seeing the Iowa State vs. OSU football game. The Cyclones, 8-4 beat the Cowboys, 20-13. We did get to see the Illini vs. Northwestern game with the Illini winning the “Hat” trophy.
Of course, the big win, for us, was ‘da Bears beating last year’s Super Bowl winner, Philadelphia Eagles. There are five more games left starting with the Packers on Dec 7. The Packers will win that game, but the Bears will beat them at home on Saturday, Dec 20.th.  As of this writing the Bears are 9 ‘n 3. Who would have thought??? 

WOW, THIS IS INTERESTING

  I don’t always believe everything on the internet, but if so, Detroit came up with something very clever. They made a road that charges electric cars while they drive. Of course, I suspect it would be very costly, but what an idea!   

WHEN I WASN’T OLD

  1) Chicken Pot Pies. Yuk!! Growing up my mom would sometimes serve them.

2) Portable Dish Washer. It had wheels and when it was full, my mom would wheel it to the kitchen sink, hook up the hose to the faucet, and “Walla,” happy dishes!

3) Wash & Wax cars.  When growing up I loved washing and waxing cars.  I remember I charged $15.00. I didn’t do the inside of the vehicle. I used JayWax or Simoniz. I remember I made some nice bucks doing the job after work at the Post Office.

4) When I started working for the PO I made $2.16 an hour and my hours were great, 6 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. The first Moline female letter carrier was Donna F. A lot of the guys did not like her because at that time it was a “Male”man’s job!  Not for women.  She stuck it out and did a nice job. 
One time we had a letter carrier that committed suicide. He would always sing while sorting the mail. He did have a beautiful voice. He was made fun of and one day he jumped off the Rock River bridge. When I think back it could have and  should have been avoided.

5) Gene McCarter at Alleman H.S. was one of my favorite teachers.  He was an amazing person. He coached varsity football at AHS and they had some really good teams. Gene was admired by everyone. Years later I met his daughter and told her what a great person he was.   

HUMOR

1) “A history degree is useless. There’s no future in it. 
2) I’m not a fan of elevator music. It’s bad on so many levels.
3) I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me!
4) How can you get four suits for a dollar? Ans: Buy a deck of cards.
5) What driver doesn’t need a license? Ans: A screw driver.

 QUOTE

  “A man’s age commands respect, a woman’s demands tact!” - unknown 

Gene Karzin Has Accepted the Position of Chief of Police for the City of Silvis

GENESEO, IL - The City of Geneseo is proud to announce that Deputy Chief Gene Karzin has accepted the position of Chief of Police for the City of Silvis, Illinois. His first official day serving the Silvis community will be January 5, 2026.

While we will certainly miss his leadership, professionalism, and unwavering commitment to our community, we couldn’t be more excited for this next chapter in his distinguished career. Gene has served Geneseo with heart, integrity, and a genuine dedication to the safety and well-being of our residents. His impact will continue to be felt for years to come.

Throughout his tenure, Gene has spearheaded the development of safety protocols and planning for community events, the redesigning and rebuilding of the department’s firearms range, increased officer training to ensure we have better prepared police officers, telecommunicators, and staff, and has been a driving force behind the Geneseo IMPACT program. He has also worked tirelessly to build morale within the department and foster a positive, professional environment.

Chief of Police Casey Disterhoft stated, “Deputy Chief Karzin has been an integral part of our department and community. His leadership, dedication, and compassion have truly made a difference. He has been instrumental in improving our safety protocols, training, and department morale. The Silvis Police Department is fortunate to have him, as his professionalism and dedication will undoubtedly serve their community well. While we will miss him greatly, we are proud to see him take this well-deserved next step. We wish him all the best in his new role.”

City Administrator Brandon Maeglin expressed, “On behalf of the City of Geneseo, I congratulate Deputy Chief Gene Karzin on being selected as the next Police Chief in Silvis, IL. His leadership and dedication to our community have been invaluable, and we'll greatly miss him. We wish him all the best in this exciting new chapter.”

Gene addressed the residents, visitors and guests of Geneseo, "I have been truly proud to work alongside the dedicated and professional staff of the Geneseo Police Department. Our officers and staff exemplify integrity, commitment, and excellence every day, and it has been an honor to serve with such an outstanding team. Their professionalism and unwavering dedication have been a constant source of inspiration, and I am grateful for the privilege of working with such an exceptional department."