Heh. Rock Polisher. What a dud!
My brother received a set of ‘Visions’ cookware the year I had specifically asked for it when I had my first apartment 25 years ago. Dad brought up ‘the look on your face’ with a nasty laugh, just 3 months ago. Remember, this happened TWENTYFIVE years ago. :rolleyes:
No, I never go home for Christmas. Why do you ask?
I had forgotten that this happened at Christmas time, but yeah…
My boyfriend and I two thousand miles apart due to my having recently joined the Army. We talked on the phone and he poured out his love, suggested names for our children, made plans about our wedding, talked about what kind of engagement ring I wanted, etc.
Then I got home for the holidays and we were really happy to see each other. A few days went by and he didn’t come across with the ring.
I actually don’t remember exactly how it went down, but after his friend hustled him off for an emergency shopping trip, he came back with my present…
a paper shredder.
The Candy doll, late 70’s/early 80’s. Here’s a pretty worn example: http://cgi.ebay.com/1979-Mego-Candy-Hair-Color-&-Make-up-doll-original-box_W0QQitemZ360116875171QQcmdZViewItemQQimsxZ20081216?IMSfp=TL081216119001r1889
You’re supposed to be able to change her hair color, but the first time you washed out the color, her hair was pretty much ruined.
Oh man, I’m sorry to know I’m not the only one who had a Xmas / no-engagement-ring story. Gotta love the clueless, huh?
Well, if it flew through the air like the commercial falsely implies, it might be pretty cool. But if all it did was teeter around on top of the cockpit controls, I see how it’d get old fast.
Well, it wasn’t Christmas but I was very disappointed in the fifth grade. My dad was in the Air Force and had a long TDY overseas (unsure of exact location, but someplace in Asia). My dad was always good about bringing back a little present when he came home (usually a doll in native dress) and he asked me what I wanted when he got home from his trip - “A bunny!” I said. I have no desire why I wanted a rabbit so bad, but my 10 year old heart cried out for a fluffy bunny to live in a hutch in the back yard (no, we did not have a hutch in the back yard).
My dad said okay and I counted down the days until his return - I couldn’t wait until I had my very own bunny! My dad got home and I got…a stuffed blue bunny. I think I managed to hide my heartbreak pretty well, but I still remember the soul-crushing disappointment!
Hope you gave the man a break when you eventually came to understand how impractical and probably illegal it would have been to bring a live rabbit back from Asia. 
He did his best.
There is a very funny ad on the radio running this season…in one part, you hear a kid say in a somewhat depressed monotone, “Gee, thanks for Harmonica Hero…”
For me it was when I was 8 years old or so. My godparents gave me a choice between ‘the most awesome present in the world’ and a ‘globe’. Of course my mother made me take the globe—I HATED the globe–even to this day I hate globes.
The most awesome present in the world? A wood burning kit–I mean what mother wouldn’t let her child have a hot metal rod that is directly plugged into 120 volts of electricity? What cruel parent would think allowing an eight year old to burn his name into blocks of wood with flaming hot metal rod was a bad idea? I still to this day at age 49 don’t understand that 
Okay I lie–I mean of course now as an adult I can understand my mom–but as an eight year old, you can’t imagine the disappointment.
I don’t even think they sale those things anymore do they? Wait they do
I am off to talk to the wife! hmmm…maybe I can carve all of our names into the dining table! That way everyone in the family will know where to sit. See it is the gift that is so creative.
I grew up in the 50’s although I was born in 1973. I got single shot .22 rifles, pellet guns, and cherry bombs when I was a child. My wood-burning kit was great until I dropped the iron on the carpet one day. It melted straight through. My reflexes were keen and I caught it almost as soon as it hit the ground. The resulting burn had me holding my hand in ice for the next two days and the giant blister oosed puss for a week. I lost part of a fingerprint on my left hand that exists to this day.
Today’s kids are such pussies. I only gave up my wood burning kit after they pried it from my thoroughly cremated fingers. They say, “You will shoot your eye out with bb guns”. Yes asshole, that is why the good lord gave you a backup.
I once asked for a green blouse. No big deal, right.
My mother managed to find the ugliest green blouse that has been made since the dawn of time–swirled shadesof green and ruffles. I wear plain, simple clothing. It looked like pajamas.
I wore it twice.
The next year I asked for a simple, chocolate brown blouse. Apparently the entire city of Boston did not have a simple, chocolate brown blouse.
I was 12 and my mother and I were estranged. She called my Dad’s house tearfully on Christmas Eve and said she wanted to make amends, would I come over and spend the night.
Long story short, I did.
We wake up Christmas morning and gather around the Christmas tree. Everyone is tearing into the gifts.
There is nothing for me.
Nothing.
Ouch.
At the age of 12, I knew that I wanted to be a rock star. It was all I knew. I wanted – nay, DESERVED – a guitar. And I got one. It was a classical guitar. Plastic strings. By gum, it had plastic strings.
So the next year, I asked for an electric guitar. You know, a real guitar. A few weeks before Christmas, a box showed up under the tree for me. It was guitar-sized. It was guitar-shaped. It was full of guitary goodness. It was…
Some crappy plastic shuffleboard game.
The guitar, however, came later, and unwrapped.
Newcrasher, that is just terrible. I am so, so sorry.
I must be a negligent parent, because I have bought my kids a wood-burning kit…a compound bow…slingshots…BB guns. Still have three kids with the appropriate number of fingers/toes/eyes.
Back in the college era, my GF gave me a hooded sweatshirt (of the sort I wore constantly at the time), onto which she’d embroidered a rainbow trout (on the left breast, about the size of a playing card). She was so proud; but I was 19 and still trying to be cool. I was stricken by the prospect of having to wear something embroidered out in public; I hardly wore it, and my ears burned when i did.
Seven years later, she lives hundreds of miles away, and I wear the sweatshirt whenever the weather dictates. If anyone throws off on it, I just say a pretty girl made it for me. It’s probably the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten.