My gift from the Xmas grab bag was a Slinky dachshund pull toy, suitable for a 2 year old. Difficulty is that this was Fourth grade.
That reminds me of the time they sent me a gift box of cheese from a dairy near them in Wisconsin for my birthday. So for Mom’s birthday I sent her a gift box of cheese from a dairy in Petaluma, California. 
I actually have a lot of food on my Wish List – barbecue from Parker’s in North Carolina, frozen deep dish pizza from Chicago, fancy Spanish tuna…
dad stepmom and Mom did not get along after he remarried (actually no one else in the fam got along with stepmom for the first decade or so they were married) when I was 8 years old I wanted a cat …mom said no …well one of the few reasons I went to dads house was they had 5 cats.
Well somehow they had acquired a 6th cat a semi-stray cat they and the other cats didn’t want I sympathized with the cat because I really wasn’t wanted there much either so around my birthday one of my step-siblings asked if I was getting a present (probably because they wanted one too) and my dad gets a shocked look on his face because no surprise he hadn’t even thought about it
then he gets thought and right before I go home gets a box puts a bag of cat food some litter and says cat box and puts it in the car he takes me home and hands me the box and says Happy birthday …I went inside the house excitedly telling Mom that Dad gave me a birthday present
she was all happy for me but suspicious…and she said what did he give you … I l picked up the cat and said "A kitty! " and her name is sissy! Mom’s face got very red and she did her best Mount St Helens impression … I had gotten upset because I thought mom was not going to let me keep the kitty cat
luckily Grandma (who was dads mother and Mom’s aunt…yeah…) who was the go-between mom and Dad after the divorce had called and answered the phone I told her what happened and she was at both of them but more my dad because he knew what mom had said before …Grandpa was there … normally he didn’t get involved in petty disputes but since I was the favorite grandchild (by default) he got on the phone with Mom calmed her down … said he call back … he did and said in about an hour they’d be by …
Well, they went to Dad’s house and read them the riot act … when they came by the house and said I was getting my cat and he had 50 dollars that grandma was keeping for supplies for the cat and to let her know when we needed stuff for the cat …
Now mom got revenge about 2 months later …stepsister was the same age as me and back then when you finished kindergarten you got a little present …Well stepsister loved hamsters hamsters are noisy messy and take a lot of attention stepsisters bio dad made her keep the hamsters at dad and stepmom’s place and step-siblings only came around every weekend or two so stepmom was stuck taking care of them
Well, one day stepmom’s cats apparently got in the habitat and hamsters were eviscerated …cue much drama …so the stepsister was told no more hamsters …Mom heard this and put a plan into action that no one knew about…
mom inquired through grandma and a phone call which I handed to stepsister if she still had all the hamster stuff because she knew someone who might want it … cue tears from sister saying they were just going to throw it out and she thought her poopyhead brother left it open …
so when they had a bbq that I went to and came home grandma passed along that sister had to come with I went in the house and came out with a big box and said it was for her… she opened it and it was a hamster family mom dad and 8 babies ecstatic wasn’t the word for how happy she was … dad just sighed and remarked “I should have seen this one coming” stepmom was beyond livid …and mom made sure they were happy and healthy little monsters…
Gift to the lil’wrekker aged 3. Furby. The new, more creepy ones. She screamed bloody murder at first sight. We had to hide it. She saw me put it high in the linen closet. She was scared to death of that closet after that. So we moved it. She saw me take it out to the garage and I said I would burn it up. That scared her more. I don’t know. I think she sensed it’s paranormal aura or some crap.
So I promised her I wouldn’t burn it. We would leave it in the garage til we figured something out.
Occasionally I would hear chirps or rumbles coming from the box. The lil’wrekker heard these at times. Always put her on edge of melting away. She hated Furby, no she was seriously frightened of it.
Anytime I brought up let’s throw it out, donate, or give it away she’d lose her shit. I’d ask why, she couldn’t put it into words why not.
So it stayed in the garage forever. I heard the noises for years. They stopped.
Then one day out of the blue I heard a raspberry sound. I sez, “it can’t be Furby”
I get the box. No Furby. I dig in other boxes. No Furby. I look behind things. Nope.
I swear I heard a chirp a few days ago.
Furby is not there. No telling how long it’s been gone.
Worst gift ever.
Possibly since the lil’wrekker decided to get her own back by trying to scare you with the gift you once scared her with?
The worst gift is no gift because they didn’t remember your birthday or couldn’t give a toss to even pretend to give something. My ex didn’t remember 3 of my birthdays.
I instilled in my kids to give something thoughtful, no matter what it might cost or what the recipient might be worth. And a crayon drawing on a piece of scrap paper 5 minutes before the cake can qualify if done with feeling.
My older brother used to be a handyman. He was turning 80, so I thought I would give him a new wallet to mark the occasion. This didn’t seem quite sufficient, so I included a couple of vouchers for Bunnings, a hardware chain here in Australia.
On receiving this gift, he rang me to thank me, with a couple of queries. First, it turned out it was his 81st birthday. (I had realised this after collecting these items, but thought I would give them to him anyway. I live in Melbourne, he lived in Launceston, so our contact was sporadic.)
Second, he pointed out he already had a couple of nice Bellroy wallets. I suppressed the desire to say “Well, either give the one I gave you back to me, or donate it to the thrift shop”. Instead I pointed out that a gift was valuable in that it showed the recipient that the giver was thinking of them. (This point was made in a previous post in this thread.) He hastily backed down from his somewhat ungracious earlier comments. He also emphasised that he appreciated the Bunnings vouchers! Well, that was something.
After we hung up, I thought “wow, that conversation didn’t go the way I expected it to”. His attitude still rankled a bit, to be honest, but I’ve got enough else happening in my life to dismiss it.
It strikes me, in reading this thread, that not all, but a lot of the messages have been about gifts to or from family members. Gift giving within this context can be a fraught exercise.
I accept any gift as a kind gesture. I wouldn’t dare complain to the giver.
It’s rude and mean.
This crosses the line of the OP, but I am somewhat proud of it.
I hate office “secret santa” shit, but I was involved in one. As it happened, I had been driving down a street in a lower middle class (the low end of lower) wherein I spotted a hand painted sign for “Hankey Pankey Sex Shop” (sic)
I was intrigued, because your average sex shop is even dingier than the rest of the suburb, this suburb was pretty bad. So when I got my direct boss in the secret santa lottery, I knew where to go. It was also anonymous gift-giving…
It was amazing. Two ancient ladies, nicotine stained and hair dyed, ran the place. It was as low budget as you can imagine. I bought some anal beads for a colleague who asked me to buy his “gift” but the real prize was the shelf of early 80s moustache gay porn VHS tapes, so I chose the worst looking (red cover, 3 gentlemen with moustaches in leather, one kneeling in submission)
We had an office bar, so everyone was a little drunk when the gifts started being given. Eventually the boss got his. He was so unsure of what to do. Everyone was laughing but he was super uncomfortable and has no idea what to do (and not just because VHS was pretty much obsolete at the time).
He laughed when I admitted it was me who chose the gift, but he could not take it home. As an extra anecdote, he instead left it on the desk of one of the senior software achitects, who was openly gay. Just not into 80s leather.
I can’t recall where the anal beads went.
I’m the same, Beck. Well, there was one time when I did, but I’m not going to get into that.
If an occasion, such as Christmas, demands, my sister does try to get me things she thinks I’d like, and often succeeds. I very much appreciated the knitted wool cap and matching wool scarf that she knit herself one year, especially given the winters we have hereabouts. But her kids, two boys now in their twenties, keep giving me gift cards to popular chain restaurants. Nothing wrong with that; I really like eating at the places these cards are for. Problem is, that none of these places exist in our little city. The boys live in a different city, and don’t know what we have locally and what we don’t.
I’ve used a few of the cards, when I’ve travelled elsewhere to places where such restaurants exist, but for the most part, the cards just sit in a desk drawer. The boys mean well with their gifts, and I thank them profusely (“Thanks, guys! This’ll be great! I’m really looking forward to having another [meal item] at [restaurant name]. Hey, thanks again!”), and I’m not going to complain.
I agree, Beck; that would be rude and mean.
This is why regifting was invented.
These things have a way of snowballing. At some point in my late teens my family decided that I like owls. I mean owls are awesome but I don’t want a bunch of owl tchotchkes. I left them all behind when I went off to college and the hint was taken.
A friend of mine had the same problem with unicorns. I was at her birthday party with a bunch of her in laws and she graciously accepted a bunch of cheap unicorn crap. It’s just lazy gift giving.
But…your Avatar🤔
Sure, but that doesn’t work when your local friends are in the same situation you are: such restaurants don’t exist locally. The cards are basically worthless, unless you travel somewhere else.
I’m leaning towards the poster above who got all kinds of cat stuff. I love cats! I guess I’m a crazy cat guy. I’ve owned at least a dozen cats, and though I have none now, I still have three cat calendars in my kitchen. Hey, did I say that I love cats?
So, Sis’s Boys, how hard would it be to get your ol’ Uncle Spoons something like a cat coffee mug? Or a cat calendar? Or … naw, now I’d be getting too specific.
Regardless, gift cards to restaurants that don’t exist locally are about as useful as mammary glands on a male bovine. I know the boys mean well, but still . . .
My father had been away for a month in Japan on business, and came home with a gift for my Mum - a table cloth. The most beautiful, silk, hand embroidered table cloth. But it was a table cloth. She was more furious than I have ever seen her.
Next time he bought her a beautiful, very expensive kimono. Lesson learned.
Apparently Furby is still there. Or at least the hell-spawn ghost of Furbys past is still there lurking in the garage. Now you’ve done it; opening a portal to whatever dimension of pure evil they come from. And in your own home. Yikes!
How old is lil’wrecker now?
My daffy conspiracy-theorist landlord, a couple years ago, bought a MyTowel from Mike Lindell’s MyPillow company as a Christmas gift for me and my mother, who are both Democrats. This was after January 6. He couldn’t have given me a worse gift if he’d spat in my face.
I might have thrown it on his floor, unzipped, pissed on it, and said “Yep, it works.” Then walked away.
Eh, considering I’m only paying $380 to live here, I’ll tolerate his shit and just bitch about it to strangers on the internet. Better than being homeless.
Forty-some years ago a friend married his girlfriend who was kinda prim and proper. I bought them a wedding gift from their registry, wrapped it nicely, taped on a card and brought it to the reception, which was outdoors under a huge white tent.
Unbeknownst to anyone I also acquired a hideously obscene porn videotape with pictures on the box that would make Larry Flynt blush. I put the videotape in a shirt box with lots of tissue paper and carefully wrapped it in a different paper than my real gift. Of course there was no card.
As the bride&groom opened their gifts , the grandmothers helped, holding items up for all to see. When they unwrapped the videotape it was hilarious. The grandmas drew it out, commenting aloud about it being for their wedding night while all the drunk people in attendance speculated on who exactly gave the gift.
I never admitted to being the one!