In a Sea of Yellow Paper Roses



Happy swimmer

It is ten o’clock in the evening and I am a woman obsessed. I am in the thick of preparations for Sophie’s 7^th birthday, and she has decided to have a dainty tea party at home for a few select friends. Her favorite color is yellow, and I have come to the important decision to fill our humble little house with yellow paper roses. I envision a multitude of paper roses hanging from the ceiling, strewn on the floor, lining our staircase, huge yellow paper roses pinned to her guests’ clothing, fetchingly attached to their hair, placed by the foot of the table, on the couch: just a bounty, no, a truckload, nay, a veritable sea of roses to play around with. I have made fifty and I am tired but determined, amused but angry with myself. All she wanted was a simple tea party with nuggets, iced tea, and caramel cake and here I was, slaving away in my self-made paper rose factory. Fifty is enough, I try to convince myself. I shake my head. Of course it isn’t. I was on a mission and I was not going to stop until our entire house was stuffed to the brim with paper roses, so stuffed that little yellow roses flowed from out of the windows and through the door.

“Wow.” I hear her awed voice behind me as she beholds her yellow paper flower sea. She plops down beside me. “Can I help?” She asks.

I sigh and try to dissuade her. I had already nailed my process down to a T. Remove Japanese paper from plastic. Cut to appropriate size. Put together a few sheets and fold like an accordion. Fold accordion in half and attach floral wire. Twist. Open up accordion again. Toss into pile with others. Once critical mass is reached, approach the pile, open each accordion up one by one, and voila – a new batch of paper flowers is created. With each round my efficiency has increased. Left alone to my devices I would reach 100% efficiency and achieve my goal of drowning the entire house in paper roses in time for the party the following day, I just knew it.