If you're a warm-blooded, eagle-enjoying, Budweiser-drinking American, I don't need to tell you twice about the "present face." It doesn't matter if what you're unwrapping is 100 percent exactly what you need/want/love, you still have to put on an act in the unwrapping process. It's kind of a half-smile, half-intrigue sort of thing and it's fully uncomfortable. You know everyone is watching you, anticipating your reaction so you have to BRING IT. None of this B-squad stuff. To wit, it kinda looks like Klay Thompson in NBA marketing when you KNOW he has no interest in being there but his contract says he HAS to pose for marketing stuff.
Susan Burr, my mother, couldn't even get to the point of having a present face thanks to my pooch, Rookie, believing every present was in fact his.
And then when you've finally unwrapped it, expressed your act of excitement (which, by the way, is probably entirely genuine, but the fact that you have to express something right then and there makes it always feel less than so), some people may just choose to move onto the next thing. But others, caught up in the moment of thinking how to act in the present process, will tell you what they plan to do with the gift, or how it will make their life better. "Oh this is great - NOW I can finally cram sixteen V-8 juice cans into my ear!"
Anyways, these are photos from my mom's birthday and unwrapping ceremony, where my giant puppy apparently thought every present was for him... Now, I'm not saying my mother has a present face. She actually is one of the few people I've noticed who can maintain genuine excitement throughout. She's a model for those who wish to graduate from present-face school. I don't know how she does it, but dammit I respect it.
