Without going into family dynamics at the time the worst gidt I ever got was nothing, actaully. My folks had passed away and I had little money. But I scrounged enough to get something for my sister. (who passed away a year or so later) I remember that because she didn’t get me anything not even a card. I didn’t even live in my hometown then and I made a long trip just to be with family on Christmas.
It was the fact that I apparently meant so little to her that I didn’t rate a Christmas card that hurt the most.
(and this is after a thanksgiving where she and my BIL essentially abandoned me on my own. They said we were having Tday at home and when I drove back home I arrived to find a note and a turkey TV dinner. They decided to have dinner with someone else and didn’t bother telling me. So I had a turkey tv dinner alone in an empty house.
Thats why I don’t do the “go see family” thing on holidays anymore. Granted I don’t have much living family left, but after that I’ve been a little bitter.
Geez Jolly, that’s awful. I still don’t cook so well (and I’m obviously not family), but if you’re ever in Texas and wanna hang out for the holidays, look me up.
As to my worst ever gift, I’ve posted about it here on the boards before… an aunt, who spends money like water going through a sieve, rounded up a bunch of pharmaceutical rep supplies and called it good. So I came away with, lemme think, a highlighter, sticky notes, a ruler, extendable eraser, mouse pad and Og only knows what else.
Hopefully this year I’ll be lucky enough to get left over garage sale rejects. Heh. At least she’s the aunt who can spell my name right.
The worse gift I’ve ever GIVEN was a box of Cracker Jacks.
It was for my Secret Santa in the seventh grade. Every day of the week you were supposed to give your “giftee” a different present. Then on the last day, you were supposed to bring an extra nice gift. Except no one told me that the last day was Thursday, not Friday. So my “extra nice” gift was a box of Cracker Jacks.
The giftee was so vocally displeased that I didn’t bother trying to make it up to her.
My worst gift was a plastic thingy that looks like a pair of tweezers, used to hold nails in the wall while you hammer them. it was also my only gift that year. And I was married with kids at the time.
The first Christmas after my sister got married, she and her husband came to our parents’ home for the holidays, as did my wife and I with our kids. All of us were very interested in a large, heavy box my BIL carried in with some difficulty. The tag on the present had my sister’s name on it, and for a couple days before Christmas I saw my sister sneak over to the box and tap it or shake it. Even their normally mellow dog sniffed excitedly at the box.
Come Christmas morning we all opened presents until the only present left was the big box. My BIL picked it up and placed it in an open space in front of my sister. She tore off the wrapping to reveal a box marked with a picture of a table saw. Ha ha, we all thought, he put her present inside an old table saw box! He must have gotten that box at the construction firm! He was tricking her…everybody knows my sister is about as interested in woodworking as a cat is interested in taking a bath! Wonder what’s really in there?
My sister opened the box to reveal…a table saw.
Everything went quiet. Was this a joke? Was there a diamond ring hidden somewhere in there? Surely BIL wasn’t dunderheaded enough to buy his new wife a freakin’ table saw. For hours we all thought there must be some kind of switcheroo. Even our 6-year-old daughter kept asking, “Did he really get her that?”
Apparently, he did. And he was completely serious about it, too.
My mother always liked to see to it that there were lots and lots and lots of presents under the tree. A nice thought, but unfortunately it meant most of them were clunkers. Every year I’d get a few nice things interspersed with things like deodorant and Kleenex. I too mastered the “thrilled to death” face at an early age.
This bad gift is an insight into my moms thought process. I wanted a copy of “Hogfather” by Terry Pratchet. A book. So my mom gives me a t-shirt with a cartoon dog on it wearing a business suit and smoking a stogie under the caption, “The Dogfather.” She seemed confused that it wasn’t as good as what I asked for. I mean, there’s only one letter difference. I’ve learned never to ask for anything relating to my hobbies.
An old roomie got a tube of Colgate from his grandmother. It had been used only once or twice.
My aunt got me an American Silver Eagle silver bullion coin one Christmas. I must have feigned a great deal of interest and excitement, because she then proceeded to get me the same coin every year for the next four years. Thanks I guess?
Over the years I’ve amassed a truly stunning array of neckties from the office Secret Santa exchange. Now, I wear ties to work all the time, and I loves me a nice tie – but honestly, that’s the best anyone can come up with? I generally give people original paintings, painted specifically for them. And I get ties.
But the worst was when I was a kid, and a necktie was the last article of clothing I wanted. My brother and I got matching ties. Clip-ons. And they were too small – my brother’s almost nearly fit me.
Okay - I know it is no way near as bad as what y’all got.
But for me it was just the incredible overwhelming-ness of it.
One year, I got 3 pairs of slippers and 5 bottles of perfume. All from my family (I come from a larger family). And we aren’t talking about “my brand” of perfume. We are talking about the “Love So Soft” cheap drugstore brands.
The fact that none of my family had consulted each other at all on what they were giving me - or maybe had and decided to copy each other - was bad. All I could think is that they only pictured me shuffling around the house, smelling bad.
But not as funny as my older brother who asked for argyle socks one year. And that was all he got. From every single one of us. Socks, socks, and more socks.
I got my sister these really ugly candles that were on sale for a dollar. They were all different colors of wax mixed together, and they did not go well with each other, either. The shape was… well, there was no discernible shape. It honestly appeared that the candle makers used the leftover wax from all of their other candles and smashed it together with a wick.
I didn’t even wrap them, or put them in a gift bag. IIRC, I just placed on the mantle above her stocking. I feel awful about that.
