One louder parcel, and the rest at ease.

A wedding welcome should match. A birthday should not. If every parcel on the piano has the same bow, the day looks planned by a hotel, and the person whose name is on the cake disappears into the set.

We pick one parcel — usually the one from the host — and give it the deeper ribbon, the slower knot, the card with a full sentence. The others stay in the same paper family and a thinner tie. Guests can still find their names. The room still has a center.

Children change the card, not the whole palette. Write what you want read aloud. We will not add a joke you did not send. Glitter stays off the table. It travels into cake.

If friends are also bringing gifts to be opened that afternoon, do not ask us to wrap those. We wrap what you are giving. Other people’s paper can sit in another room until the song.

Count the list the night before, including the small ones you nearly forgot. A host table holds six. Past that, book the long morning. Adding a seventh at the door makes the first six wait.

Related: the dinner brief, or hold a birthday hour.