One Christmas I scraped together every penny of my babysitting money and bought little brother a really, really cool train set. It was a big ol’ box and I proudly wrapped it and put it under the tree weeks before Christmas.
Brother (age 7 or 8) was also supposed to buy for me, and perhaps became intimidated by the big box I had for him. He bought a 10 cent SuperBall out of a machine, put it in a HUGE box (think stove size!) and wrapped it for me. Come Christmas morning, I eagerly ripped open giant present from bro and burst into tears. He then opened his big prez from me . . . and promptly burst into tears.
It seems that I had accidentally bought the empty box that went with the train set on display – unintentionally paying him back for the lovely Super Ball
The year we bought our house, our real estate agent gave us a $50.00 gift certificate.
Normally, you might think I am crazy. “Hey dude, that’s $50.00!”
Well, the gift certificate was to the most upscale, rip off store in Las Vegas.
We walked through that store for about an hour. When I say NOTHING was under $100 I am not exaggerating! Plus, it was all crap that I wouldn’t have wanted if she had given us a $1000 gift certificate.
I found a “brother” (Gay employee) and explained our plight - this store had nothing that interested us whatsoever. He understood immediately. He was only working there for Christmas money and agreed it was overpriced crap.
Because it was a gift certificate, we had to buy something…but we could return it for cash. So he told us to buy something and we could immediately return it. We did and then got the $50.00 back in cash.
So the upswing was, it wasn’t a bad gift, it just took some creative work at the cash register and a helpful Gay employee to turn it back into cash.
This wasn’t to me - actually, I simply wish Christmas would go away and I didn’t have to conjure up smiles when I get yet another fairy-themed bit of home decor (I don’t collect fairies)…
One year, when my middle brother was about 12, he got a ‘gag’ gift which was a thong pair of underwear with a pouch for his genitalia. The pouch was shaped like a frog, with dangly legs. He was teased as being the ‘greenie weenie’ for a very long time. I have no idea why anybody thought this was funny. But dad’s sense of humor has always bordered on the cruel.
Well, it was traumatizing for about 15 minutes, then it became hilarious. I went back to the store the next day and was able to get the train set that came with the empty box So far as the SuperBall gift, it has passed into family legend and for the last 30 years little bro has received a lovely X-mas prez of a SuperBall from me (plus good stuff!)
When I was 13 and fairly miserable about the whole thing, I got the worst present ever.
See, I am the last of 5 kids. My paternal grandmother had a total of 9 grandkids–I am the youngest. Every year a HUGE box would arrive from Washington DC with all our presents from the grandparents in it.
I loved opening this box and fingering the presents and placing them under our tree. Since I was youngest, once the older ones were past Santa stage, but I wasn’t, I was given this singular honor.
When I was 13, the large box came as usual. I opened it after school, with sibs in attendance (5 kids in 5 years makes for a tight knit group). I passed out wrapped gifts for the twins, for my brother, for my eldest sister etc–there were probably 2-3 per kid. Quite a pile under the tree.
There was nothing in the box for me.
I was devastated.
My mother, whose relationship with this Grandma was NOT good (and my mother was not a very assertive person) got on the phone long distance (in 1975!) before the rates went down and raised hell.
Turns out my grandmother had decided to not acknowledge me that year–no reason was ever really given. I did receive from her a cheap nasty comforter in a patchwork pattern (in primary colors–to go with my pink and white room) in February.
I never fully forgave her. This is also the Grandma who painted (she was an artist) a picture of all the grandkids playing Ring Around the Rosie–when my mother was pregnant with me. I was due in about a month, but no, I am not in the picture. She is not missed, shall we say.
Ironically, I look exactly like my father-who looks like her. :rolleyes:
